


The Proposal

by RubensLilium



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Funny, Marriage Proposal, My First Work in This Fandom, Romance, Slow Burn, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25273777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubensLilium/pseuds/RubensLilium
Summary: Alastor has decided that the time has come for him to give marriage a try, but not just anyone can become the wife to an all-powerful Overlord.Until an unexpected twist of fate brings his attention to a woman named Amylie - a fallen angel who's desperate to break the binds of a strict contract she's under.Who would have thought that one little marriage proposal would open the door to a journey so chaotic that hell will be raving about it for years to come!
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All the original Hazbin Hotel characters belong to Vivziepop. And yes, this is an OCXCanon story (because I am trash). 
> 
> Also of note: I do not own the rights to the song "Special to me" from "The Phantom of the Paradise".
> 
> (Kudos to those of you who will recognize the song ;) ).
> 
> Enjoy!

Special to Me

It was called “The Sinner's Eden”.  
  
A loud, packed and lively casino for both angels and demons to gather and partake in the more...frowned upon things they missed from their previous lives. A grandeur of a building placed right on the beaches of limbo, the land between heaven and hell.

While hell itself had quite a few casinos, they weren't as popular as Sinner's Eden, where a membership pass could open a world of entertainment for anyone. Being built upon limbo's vast beaches, there was a sense of style and class that drew in it's massive crowd. Casinos in hell were chaotic, with every slot machine and games rigged in the owner's favor so that gullible souls could spend away every penny they had in the hopes of getting lucky. Fights were rampant and they reeked of poor choices and regret.

Heaven wouldn't _dare_ put such a thing in their realm. Gambling was just one of the many things they didn't allow (and that list was practically endless). However, some of their own souls sometimes got restless – the non 'natural-born' angels, who missed some of the pleasures the living world had to offer.

Once some of them caught word that there was a casino in limbo, they didn't hesitate to sneak out after hours and partake.

Overlords from hell had also caught wind of this casino...but only _one_ of them had a membership pass.

Normally, Alastor – the infamous Radio Demon – would have gladly turned the other way from such a place. He wasn't a fan of gambling in the slightest, but there was something else in this giant casino that had caught his eye.

He arrived to the building's front gates, where there was a large line of demons awaiting to enter as the guard let them in one by one after checking their pass cards. He was an egregiously large canine demon, resembling that of a bulldog, wearing a bright red and gold uniform. He had one hand awaiting for each pass and a scanner in the other.  
  
Alastor's grin widened as he walked past every waiting angel and demon in line without hesitating, not even flicking an ear when he'd catch a few annoyed whispers and groans.

Until one demon had the gull to grab Alastor's arm, snarling. “Get in the back of the line, fucker! We've been waitin' – ”

But his threat quickly dropped the moment those bright red orbs inside Alastor's gaze turned to him, and that wide smile of his _beamed_ – as if he was _eager_ for this demon to finish his threat.

There was always that one person in a line that had to make a scene, and this unlucky bastard was about a heartbeat away of picking a fight with the wrong demon. Lucky for him, Alastor had the composure of a saint, as he simply waited for this now trembling demon to finish.

“Yes?” asked Alastor, grinning with anticipation. “Is there something wrong?”

A static-y growled hinged on the end of Alastor's question, followed by a brief flash of radio dials in that unblinking, wide-eyed gaze of his.

The demon quickly released Alastor's arm with a trembling hand, backing away not a second later in quiet terror.

Once he pulled back, Alastor's calm and confident demeanor returned in the blink of an eye. He brushed his coat sleeve, walking along.  
  
“I thought not!”

The line moved, putting a large gap between themselves and the red Overlord. He didn't bat an eye at it for even a moment as he gladly cut his way in line.

The demon in front of him was just about to hand the guard his pass when he felt something was off. He turned – and the moment he saw that wide, jagged-toothed gold smile, he nearly panicked on the spot. He regained his composure though, moving aside with a scared but courteous smile, gesturing for Alastor to go right ahead.

Alastor gladly accepted, strolling right up to the guard and presenting his membership pass with just the flick of his wrist. After a simple scan from the bar code on the back of his card, he took it back.

Then, with just a hit of a button from his booth, the guard opened the casino's gates for him.  
  
"Enjoy your time at Sinner's Eden. Remember to be a good sport when you win, and to not shoot up the place when you lose..." the canine demon said rather dully, undoubtedly reciting the motto for the hundredth time now.

For Alastor, it had been the seventh time he had heard it.  
  
“Thank you, my good chap,” he replied, like always, “but you know I never stay long.”

With that said, Alastor strolled past the gate, humming a cheery tune to himself with his arms folded neatly behind his back. He passed by a few demons exiting the building, noticing a female demon on her way out as well.

Alastor caught the door just before it shut, holding it open for the young demoness.  
  
She gave the deer a smile, thanking him as they crossed paths, and he nodded politely in return.

Not a moment after setting foot into the casino did his ears flicker to a wave of rolling slot machines. He had gotten used to the sound by now, barely batting an eye at just how packed the gambling area was. Every machine was taken, with numerous demons and angels occupying them. Some were in groups while others sat alone with just a cup of coins, fixated on their machines with an intensity that still made Alastor somewhat concerned.

Nevertheless, he looked away without a second thought on the matter.

While the Sinner's Eden was a casino at heart, it also had many other forms of entertainment for those not looking to spend very much money, and one of the main attractions that it was also known for was a very successful dinner theater, one that was free of admission.

Alastor entered, his eyes adjusting to the now dim lighting. The noise from the slot machines was quickly drowned out by the relaxed atmosphere, where a young male demon was performing for the crowd of seated demons and angels. Some were paying attention while others conversed among themselves.

Alastor glanced around, noticing that it seemed more packed tonight. Almost every table on the floor was taken, not that that was a bother to him. He went up the stairs, taking a seat at a forgotten table in the balcony section.

A waiter flying around saw him and flew over, taking his drink order.

He ordered a glass of whiskey, requesting he'd leave the bottle.

Once the waiter flew away to retrieve his order, Alastor took out a small pocket watch and checked the time. It was almost seven...he still had some time before she came out.

This thought alone sent a warmth down Alastor's spine, followed by a deep pounding in his chest. He put his hand to it, feeling the beat speed up a bit under his claws.

Yet again, he was feeling this strange flood of excitement from just the thought of seeing her again. He couldn't quite understand just...why he felt this way. While still perplexing, these sudden rushes had become tolerable now for Alastor.

The worse one had been the first moment he laid eyes on her...

A week ago, Angel Dust had been given a “gift” from a very generous fan of his, which was a membership pass for the Sinner's Eden – which apparently was something Angel had been dying to get his greedy claws on for years. The pass also permitted a plus one, and Angel admitted he didn't want to attend alone.

Charlie and Vaggie declined his offer, as well as Husk and Niffty. It seemed even his tom-boyish friend Cherri Bomb wasn't up for the notion either.

And that left the pornstar with one last person to ask.

Angel had been prepared for Alastor to say no (which he did without a second notion) but he had begged and begged and _begged_ the Radio Demon to reconsider. Yet he didn't budge on the matter...until Angel brought up the perfect bribe:

That he refrain from flirting with Alastor for an entire month if he did this one kindness for him.

...And poor Alastor had no choice but to accept, more than exhausted of the spider's numerous attempts to seduce him despite living inside the hotel for only a few months now. A break from his presence was the best thing he could have asked for.

Upon arriving at the casino, Alastor was anything but impressed. He left Angel alone to gamble away with a slot machine while he wandered around, stumbling upon the dinner theater section by chance. He went inside, driven by an urge of curiosity _and_ a drink.

Yet still, Alastor wasn't quite impressed with the many performers he watched. He stood and attempted to leave...until another performer had begun to sing.

Alastor had found himself entrapped by her song, and she was singing a love song of all things. But her voice was mesmerizing; the most...beautiful voice he had ever heard.

And her name was –

“Ladies and gentlemen – and other brutes and beasts alike!”

The voice of the announcer broke Alastor from his reverie, focusing back onto the stage where an imp with a microphone stood in front of a drawn curtain.

“We here at Sinner's Eden hope you're all having a relaxing evenin' tonight, folks,” the imp grinned, walking along the stage, “but we all know it this night wouldn't be complete without one of our shining stars gracing you all with her presence this fine night! So without any further adieu – our next performer, the lovely fallen heart-throb of Sinner's Eden: Amylie!”

The imp hopped off just as the curtain began to rise; and Alastor's heart rate with it.

And there she was, standing center stage in a scantily outfit that glistened under the stage lights. Her long black hair was done up, with her pale white skin blessed without a single blemish. She opened her eyes, those baby blue orbs gliding across the now alighted crowd.

On her back were pure black wings, which were delicately folded along her back so not to draw any eyes off her.

Then the music started to play, a type of bouncy music guided along by an electric guitar and piano, with the small beating of drums to help the music flow along.

Finally, Amylie began to sing:

“ _Caught up in your wheelin' dealin'_

_You've got no time left for simple feelin'_

_I thought I knew you but I didn't know you at all...”_

She began to dance, bouncing around like she was walking along air, a grace in her step that only an angel could posses. She moved her body in ways that made males (and some females) lean in close, wanting to get a look at her features as much as possible.

Alastor, however, remained perfectly composed. He simply watched...enjoying just her presence on the stage.

“ _Trapped inside your world of worry_

_You miss so much when you always hurry_

_Well slow down baby_

_You'll only get hurt if you fall..._

_Well you told me one time that you'd be somebody_

_That you weren't workin' just to survive_

_But you're workin' so hard_

_That you don't even know you're alive...”_

Amylie did a twirl then, holding her hands close to her chest in a sensual way as she leaned in close to her mic, her eyes so narrowed that they almost looked shut, as she heightened the beat of the song:

“ _Workin' so hard to be somebody special_

_Not working just to survive_

_Well you're special to me babe_

_But what I don't see babe_

_Is where you go once you arrive?_

_Where we go once we arrive~”_

Amylie took hold of the microphone, her lips just inches from it as their black color began to shine like starlight against the dark blue backdrop of the stage. She was starting to drive the crowd wild, some of them even whistling from their seats and cheering for her.

Yet still, Alastor remained quiet and composed. While he wasn't a fan of the suggestive themes in her outfit and dancing, he actually quite enjoyed the song so far, but just the sound of her voice was the most enjoyable part.

Even now, he was captivated by her.

His only reason for tolerating this drag of a place.

“ _Damn all evil that takes possession_

_Until your pipe dreams become obsessions_

_They scare me baby_

_And we should have nothing to fear..._

_I'm no child_

_But I can't help wonder_

_It seems like some kind of spell you're under_

_You're listenin' baby_

_But somehow you don't really hear...”_

Then, just like that...Amylie stopped. She gazed among the crowd, but her eyes were on no one.

Not a single soul.

Yet she carried an abnormal look on her face, one that brought an air of confusion. Her bouncy and playful attitude was gone, now replaced by something lost and...broken.

The music continued, but she did not.

Amylie stood on the stage, her eyes once again gliding slowly across the crowd...when Alastor noticed them stick to her far left a few long heartbeats before bringing her gaze down to the floor.

Once her arms fell, and a couple steps backwards from the microphone, was when the music stopped.

Those curtains dropped not a second later, vanishing Amylie off the stage like she was never there.

The crowd began to shout. Some demanding she return, others loudly questioning each other what could have caused her to stop so abruptly like that.

The announcer practically shoved himself back on stage, nervously trying to calm things back down.

Alastor watched this chaos unfold.

_So...the staff was unprepared for this as well._

Alastor couldn't help but feel his smile widen, his legs crossing as he took a sip of his whiskey.

At last...his chance had finally arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the original Hazbin Hotel characters belong to Vivziepop. And yes, this is an OCXCanon story.

Prima Donna

“Ow, hey! Hey!” 

Amylie grunted and (feebly) resisted against the massive bouncer carrying her over his shoulder. He had scooped her up not a moment after the curtain closed on her, swooping in like a hawk on the hunt.

All the bouncers employed in the casino were heavily built demons, towering over the other staff members. There were only a few, but what they lacked in numbers they made up for in strength.

They were always at the ready whenever trouble was on the horizon in the casino, whether it was aggressive guests that needed to be taught a lesson - or an employee that felt like being disobedient.

This wasn’t the first time Amy was being - what her boss called it - _“personally escorted”_ to his office. He lived at the very top floor of Sinner’s Eden, and every bouncer had their own way of reaching him.

Jerry, the one in charge of _escorting_ Amylie this week, preferred to use the stairs.

When the casino had more than enough elevators for guests and staff to use. 

Amy pounded as hard as she could on his back, but it was as effective as pounding a brick wall. She could feel the long distance between her and the destination grow smaller and smaller by the second.

“Put me down, Jerry!”

But Jerry was silent, focused on his task with...admirable yet confusing determination.

Not that Jerry spoke much anyway. Or the other bouncers.

The only person they spoke to was the boss - the man who built Sinner’s Eden from the ground up.

Amon.

And Amy was on a one-way ticket to see him. She knew this would happen the moment she fell silent in the middle of her performance, and she had intended to see him herself had Jerry not snagged her first.

She even wanted to have a dramatic speech prepared, but those hopes were dashed now.

Before Amylie knew it, Jerry had opened the golden, the two of them entering the lavish room that was Amon’s office. 

Every photo on the walls were related to the casino, from newspaper clippings of its booming success to photos of Amon standing alongside or shaking hands with big-named demons that were highly satisfied guests of the establishment.

Placed at the head of the massive room was Amon’s office desk, decorated with many other trinkets - such as a mini replica of Sinner’s Eden given to Amon as a gift, along with a snow-globe of Pentagram city and a framed letter of endorsement from heaven dated back before the casino was even built.

Jerry then suddenly tossed Amylie on to a giant lounge chair, the soft dark red cushions softening her landing. She grunted, giving the bouncer a side-glare as she readjusted her outfit and her hair.

“Must you be so aggressive every time?” she grumbled.

“That’s some plucky talk coming from a primadonna like yourself, Amylie!” lectured an imp, who was dressed in a fancy suit and tie with a pair of crooked glasses on his face.

Snoops, Amon’s assistant manager - an imp who was the best when it came to numbers and dates. He was his right hand imp during the more frustrating parts of his business, helping sort out all the cost they would need to set the idea in motion, with strong connections with other companies that would be more than willing to put their names on such a gamble as a casino built on limbo. 

So impressed with his commitment, Amon didn’t hesitate to make Snoops his assistant manager. Whatever needed to be done, Snoops was more than prepared to handle the task.

However, Snoops was also the biggest suck up to Amon, taking his word as law in Sinner’s Eden and always using him as a threat to the other employees whenever they acted out on his watch.

The only person he couldn’t scare was Amylie, and she never hesitated to show it.

She gave the imp a light scowl as he continued berating her, trying to tune him out and ignore the sharp claw he was pointing at her.

“Your performance tonight was a disaster! And might I add highly unprofessional!”

She crossed her legs, sitting comfortably in the lounge chair as Snoops _still_ continued.

“As if the stunt you pulled last week wasn’t embarrassing enough, now you’ve gone and done - ”

“Snoops…”

Both the imp and Amy turned to the front of the desk, where Amon was sitting. 

However, his chair was turned, facing the many TV screens of varied shapes and sizes. Each one displayed different rooms - all jam packed with guests - to keep track of what was going on in the casino all at once. 

He put a large investment into security at the casino, and Amon knew he was the best at surveying his property - the way a good boss should, as he believed.

“Run and fetch me more cigars.”

Snoops blinked at that, unprepared for that. He glanced between him and Amy before leaning in beside his chair, giving a nervous chuckle as his spiked tail tucked around his knees.

“Um, sir? Are-Are you sure?” he asked, confused. “B-Because I can handle her for you. You’ve got enough on your plate as it -”

Without warning, Amon took the butt of his used cigar and put it out on the center of Snoops’ open hand, the skin of his palm sizzling the moment the heat made contact with it.

While Snoops was Amon’s right hand man, he was also one of the first to receive the short end of the stick whenever he was in a mood.

To the imp’s credit, he was more than used to being Amon’s ashtray. His arm tensed and trembled from the intense burning under his hand, but he still managed a smile at his boss.

“Right, right! Of course, you can handle this, sir! Noted, sir! I’ll-I’ll be right back with some more cigars right away!”

He exited fast, not looking back as he closed the door behind him.

Then Amon extended his arm out from above the chair so that Jerry could see.

“You as well, Jerry.”

Unlike Snoops, the bouncers all obeyed Amon without question. He turned and left, closing the door behind him as well.

…

Complete silence.

It was heavy, and - from Amy’s experience - very unsettling.

She blinked when she suddenly saw the dinner theater room on display from all the TV screens. Some of the cameras in the room zoomed in on the guests, while others focused on the stage where another performer was acting in Amy’s place.

The guests looked anything but interested, all looking quite dissatisfied with the performer. They were barely paying her any mind.

“Do you see what I see, Amylie?” asked Amon, who slowly stood from his seat at last. 

His figure was silhouetted by the light of the screens, but those black wings of his never failed to catch her eye. They were angled out more than hers, making him appear larger than what he was. 

Then he turned, his black sunglasses tilted enough for her to see those piercing green eyes of his. 

Like other fallen angels, Amon had a very pale complexion and black hair, which he kept slicked back with gel - saved for the one curly bang hanging off the side of his head. He was a man with sharp features, giving a smirk as he came around the side of his desk.  
  
His dark purple coat with white tiger prints along the sleeves and inside flowing behind his legs as he walked.

She gulped, straightening her back a bit. “I…”

“A room full of dissatisfied guests,” he answered, not waiting for her response. “And what’s one of the many things I don’t tolerate in my casino?”

Amy knew the answer to that question instantly. “...D-Dissatisfaction.”

“Good girl,” he praised, his smirk widening a bit.

He leaned backwards against his desk, his hands moving into his pockets as he gave Amylie his full attention.

“Now, care to explain just _why_ you choked out there?”

Amy’s hand slightly tensed into a fist at her side, gripping into the cushion beneath her with a trembling grip. She turned to the side with a stiff lip.

“You should know why. You were out there watching like everyone else.”

“Course I was,” he grinned. “You know I always got time for my best gal’s show. But that performance was a joke. If anything…”

A scowl crinkled along Amon’s brow as his gaze intensified on Amy.

“...You did that specifically to spite me, didn’t you?”

Amy kept her head down, refusing to answer.

She jolted a little when he moved in, placing a leg on the couch so he could lean in as close to her as possible, keeping his head above hers in the process - like the alpha of a pack asserting dominance against a stubborn underling. 

“Need I remind you that you are _still_ on my shit list after the bullshit you pulled last week when you got that wild little hair up your ass.”

“Why? Because I sang a song that _I_ wrote for once?” she demanded, looking him in the eye now.

Their noses were just inches from each other. The air grew more intense.

Amon chuckled at that. “Please, all you did was sing a stupid little love song, babes. And no one fuckin’ liked it.”

“One person did,” she said, looking to the side again, “I heard someone applauding it…”

“So that’s what that little tantrum was about? Because you don’t like the songs written for you?”

“Or the costumes, or my reputation here - or _anything_ , Amon!” she finally exclaimed. “When you promised me I would become a singer, I never knew you meant something like this! You also told me you would consider letting me branch out, but still nothing has changed after all these years!”

“C’mon, Ames,” Amon said, disregarding her frustration, “you’re bein’ over dramatic. The people love you. You’re a star. That’s what you wanted.”  
  
“I wanted to be a _singer_ , Amon. Not a performer who parades on a stage half naked and singing songs written by other people.”

“Amy, baby, that’s what it means to be a star. You can’t be tellin’ me this shit’s finally clickin’ after all these years working this business?”

Amy stood, going up to Amon and pleading now.

“Please, Amon. If you just give me a chance, I can show you how much work I’ve been dying to put into this. I have so many songs I want to sing, and I wrote every single one!”

“I don’t think you’re gettin’ the point, sugar…” Amon said, moving a hand and cupping it around the back of her head, pulling her in close to himself with that beaming grin.

“Nobody gives a shit about what _you_ want to sing.”

That struck a chord with Amy. She went to move back, but he kept his hand around her, his fingers in her hair. 

“You think a bunch of demons and angels are gonna come to a show just to hear some skinny broad sing a bunch of generic love songs like _all_ the other skinny broads before you sang? I think not, Ames. I’ve put too much time and effort into your career to let you fuck it all up outta the blue like this.”

“ _My_ career?” she questioned bitterly, ripping herself from his grip. “I don’t have a career - thanks to you.”

“You should be on your knees thankin’ me for even giving you a second look back then,” Amon reminded. “You were nothing when I found you, remember? How the big cats upstairs wanted to make you a guardian angel and serve on the behalf of others? _I_ saw the one thing in you they never did - talent.”

“Apparently we have a conflicting definition of talent,” she spat, crossing her arms.

“Get used to it, Ames. You should have thought about that before you agreed to join the casino.”

“ _You_ lied to _me!_ You said you would help me become a singer! Not some show-girl!”

“Singer, show-girl - what’s the difference? Titles are just titles, baby…” he moved in again, one hand reaching in and holding her by her cheeks so she could face his smirk, “now stop actin’ like a spoiled little bitch and get with the program.”

Amy tried not to tremble, holding her glare at him as best as she could.

“You think you got it so bad here?” he said, that grin widening as his burning green eyes made her feel as tiny as a mouse. “Maybe I should kick your scrawny ass out to the curb for a week, let you get a taste of life on the outside. Right off casino grounds and let hell show you how good you got it.”

Once again, Amy tried to pull away, but Amon wasn’t letting her off the hook this time.

“You think anyone out there will give a shit about what you want? Hell will chew you up and spit you back out like the little nobody you are. So, I suggest you start cooperating, ’cause some of the new talent we’ve got here would **kill** for your spot. And I’m sure they’d be a hell of a lot more grateful than you are.”

Amy winced when she felt his grip around her cheeks tighten. 

“Remember, Amy: I built you up...and I can knock you down.”

Amy didn’t respond, didn’t dare even let her lip twitch. Her demeanor finally faltered, and she gave in, showing him her fear. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his grin more relaxed now.

She waited for his hand to drop, until he suddenly moved in and forced his lips to hers. 

Amy tensed, helpless to pull away as Amon wrapped an arm around her waist and practically shoved his tongue in her mouth.

But it only lasted for a few seconds before he pushed her away, and she fell on to the chair behind her, coughing and wiping her lips - gagging on the taste of cigar in her mouth.

“Now get out of my sight.” He said, more than satisfied with himself. 

Amy didn’t waste another second, speed-walking to the door with her arm around her mouth so she wouldn’t spit on his carpet from the disgusting taste of his lips.

Amon watched her leave, laughing to himself the whole time.

As soon as his door closed, he gave a content sigh.

“Damn broad’s a hell of a lot more trouble than she’s worth...but damn,” he grinned, licking his lips, “am I ever a sucker for those soft lips of hers.”

* * *

Amy had hurried outside, practically flying down the stairs so she could sneak outside through one of the many staff-only exits in the building. She used the one located on the side of the casino, not that far from where the front doors were located. 

She leaned over the railings and spat up the awful taste of Amon’s kiss from her mouth. That man was addicted to smoking cigars, and swapping spit with him was no different than Amylie dragging her tongue along an ashtray. 

Wiping her mouth, Amylie caught her breath. She felt tears start to well up in her eyes. Her fist was still shaking, the urge to hit something burning in her muscles.

But she gave up, holding her tense arm around herself as she wiped her teary eyes. 

She sat on the bottom steps, burying her face in her lap. 

...And she finally started to cry. 

The fire inside her still burned, yearning to put this casino behind her - to no longer be at Amon’s mercy. 

She hated when he’d humiliate her like that; it was his sick way of rubbing the salt in her wounds. He never did that to anyone else but her.

Always her.

“Stupid, pompous, ignorant…” Amylie had to hold back, afraid that she was being watched by one of his many secret security cameras.

He had eyes built in every crevice inside and outside the casino. 

All she could do was cry. 

What she wouldn’t give to take that contract he had her under and rip it in half right in front of him...but she knew that would never come to pass.

This casino was her home now.

Heaven wanted nothing to do with her anymore, and she knew she wouldn’t last a day in hell (as much as she hated agreeing with Amon)...she knew he was right.

Sinner’s Eden was the only place where the doors always opened to her; a place where people knew her name.

There was a puddle at her feet, and she saw her own miserable reflection look right back at her. She remembered she looked just the same way the day when Amon found her, back when she was a guardian angel.

He had offered to help her become the one thing she had always wanted to be, and she blindly accepted, despite the massive sacrifice she’d have to make just to join him in limbo. 

Amylie remembered when she had told Amon how happy his offer made her, he gave her a coy smirk, and said:  
  
 _“Only lucky people get to be happy, baby.”_

She knew now what he’d meant by that. Amylie was anything but lucky, especially now.

All she had was a fake persona, a reputation so tarnished that heaven would never look her way again, and a boss that enjoyed humiliating her and sticking his tongue in her mouth.

Not even a miracle could help her now.

Amylie stopped then, feeling something watching her…

She quickly looked up, jolting when she found two large demons suddenly standing over her. She gasped in fright, quickly standing up.

Amylie wasn’t even half their height, as the two towered over her like the bouncers did. She noticed the two reeked of alcohol; she had a sinking feeling that they had just been kicked out of the casino.

“Looky what we got here,” slurred one of the two, giving Amy a drunken smile, “the gal of the hour!”

“We were wonderin’ where you went off to, angel face,” the other said, just as drunk and slurring as bad as his friend, “your show was gettin’ really good back there.”

Amy swallowed. Although she wasn’t a fan of dealing with drunk demons by herself, she knew the best strategy was to remain calm and polite. She quickly wiped her eyes, acting aloof.

“I’m sorry about that, um, something went wrong with the, uh, music. So the staff had to cut it short. By the time they got it working again, my time was already up, hehe!”

She waited for one of them to reply, but they just stared at her with those large and eerily excited grins.

“B-But I’ll be back on the stage after the weekend, so you two can come back then, okay?” she chuckled. “We’ll make sure the equipment’s working properly, I promise! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go back inside….”

She moved between the two large demons as quick as possible, her hand on the door handle. But no sooner than she opened it did one of them press his large hand against it and push it shut with just the slightest ounce of his strength.  
  
“Hold on now, angel face,” he said, “where’s the rush?”

His friend leaned in again, trying to get a look at Amylie. “Yeah, c’mon, baby. We don’t bite. Why not stay and chat for a bit?”

“B-Because I have to go,” she told them, keeping up that polite smile, “I-I’m tired and I need to shower. I’m sure you two understand….”

They moved towards her, so Amylie backed up, looking between them. Her smile disappeared, trying to put a gap between herself and them.

“We really liked your dancing back there, baby.”  
  
“How about you give us a private show? We came all the way from downtown just to see _you_ , angel face.”

Amy started shaking, glancing around for anyone that was nearby. “I-I don’t…”

“Baby, we ain’t askin’.”

“We’re just a couple of fans lookin’ for a good time.”

Amy continued to back away, feeling a panic start to fall over her - until her back pressed up against something. She felt her panic skyrocket when she thought it was the gate that surrounded the casino, but the two demons suddenly stopped in their tracks.

“Dearie, me.”

A new voice spoke, followed by a hand touching her shoulder from behind. She saw sharp red claws on night-black hands.

Following it, Amylie looked up, seeing that she hadn’t backed into a gate at all, but a man wearing the widest smile she had ever seen.

She knew _exactly_ who he was - thanks to all those warnings posted all around heaven, hell and even in limbo. Only one demon in all of hell carried such an unsettling smile.

“What a predicament you’ve found yourself in, little dove.” 

Although Alastor was staring down the two demons, Amylie knew he was speaking to her. She took a risk and glanced back at the demons, noticing that they still appeared hostile...but the fear was there, as they didn’t dare move any closer to Amylie now.

“You gotta be shittin’ me…” one muttered.

His friend growled. “This fucking guy…”

“Move along now, gentlemen.” Alastor advised, with just a slight little head tilt to the left. “I would like an audience with the young lady, and you two are becoming an eye sore.”

Amylie jolted when the demons snarled at him. 

“We saw her first, Radio Demon!”

“Fuck off and go find another dame to white knight for!”

Alastor didn’t even flinch at their deadly snarling. He chuckled at them, his smile curling a little higher than before.

Amy felt both his hands on her shoulders now, one claw gently twirling a lock of her hair as he looked at them. 

“Oh, well. I tried to be cordial.”

Alastor slowly moved his hands and covered Amylie’s eyes.

She tensed when she heard him whisper in her ear:

“Trust me, darling, you won’t want to see this.”

Not a heartbeat after he said that did the sound of two distinct screams follow, along with some other odd noises Amy couldn’t place, yet Alastor never let his hands drop from her eyes.

But it only lasted for a few moments.

She opened her eyes when he finally dropped his hands, finding the two demons were nowhere to be found. She looked around, taking a few steps from Alastor in the process.

“Where...Where did they-” 

“Somewhere they can’t bother us,” answered Alastor, folding his hands behind his back.

“...Are they still alive?”

Alastor’s smile only widened at the question.

He moved forward, walking around Amylie as he seemed to study her from head to toe. Those ruby-red eyes of his scanning every inch of her that was possible.

Now Amylie was definitely apprehensive, shying under his stare but making sure to watch his every move.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, glancing at the door then back to him. “M-My manager doesn’t like when Overlords visit his casino.” 

“My dear, I’ve been in and out of this place for almost a week now,” Alastor replied, rather pleasantly. “And might I add - your manager acts more like a dewdropper than an employer.”

“Well, that’s not far from the truth, but -”

Amylie stopped, looking at Alastor with surprise. She hadn’t heard someone refer to another as a ‘dewdropper’ in decades.

“D-Did you just call him a dewdropper?”

“That I did,” Alastor answered, his smile seeming to widen a touch at her, “Grew up in the twenties, I take it?”

“I...did,” she said, quite surprised at Alastor now. Amy couldn’t contain a giggle. “Oh my gosh, I-I haven’t heard that word in so long...I had no idea anyone still even used it anymore.”

“My slang tends to slip out from time to time,” he replied. “As they say, old habits die hard.”

It was then it finally occurred to Alastor that he’d failed to introduce himself. 

“Oh, but where are my manners?” he grinned, taking Amylie’s hand. “The name’s Alastor, my dear...although I have a feeling you already knew that.”

He gave a courteous bow, much to Amylie’s surprise, and even gave her hand a polite kiss. 

Unprepared for it, she lightly pulled her hand away. She even felt a blush start to darken her cheeks. 

“Still quite apprehensive, I see. Forgive me, my dear. Sometimes I forget my reputation precedes me. And I’m certain my name sends quite a heavy chill down the spines of angels.”

She gulped again, holding the hand he had kissed close to herself. She could still feel the touch of his lips linger on her skin.

“M-My name is...is Amy-Amylie…” she gulped again. “B-But I’m sure you...you already knew that, if you’ve been coming here for so long now.”

“The pleasure is all mine, darling.”

Amylie almost couldn’t...understand what was happening. Here she was, having a pleasant conversation with not only an Overlord, but the infamous Radio Demon of all souls. So far, he wasn’t what all the posters claimed he was...but she wasn’t about to let her guard drop just because of a friendly conversation.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” she finally asked. “I thought Overlords wanted nothing to do with Sinner’s Eden?”

She noticed his smile widened again.

“Let’s just say something here has...caught my eye, sort of speak.”

Amy didn't an eye at his statement, “You still shouldn’t be here. My manager will throw a fit if he finds out there’s been an Overlord coming in and out of his casino as he pleases.”

“If he’s worried that I’m planning to sabotage this establishment from under his nose, he’s gravely mistaken.”

“It’s not that,” she explained, “it’s the principal. I’m not even supposed to speak to any of you..."

Amy paused a moment to double-check and make sure there weren’t any cameras possibly watching them.

“I-I appreciate you helping me, regardless. Thank you, Mr. Alastor, but I have to go -”

“Are you going to inform that manager of yours about what happened?” Alastor suddenly asked then, catching Amylie off guard again.

She blinked and looked at him. “Well...I…”

“I simply ask because I fail to see what good informing him would do, seeing as he cares very little of your well-being as it is.”

Amy blinked again, staring at Alastor now with a mixed expression of confusion and apprehension. 

“What are you…?” but she had a feeling - judging by that smile of his alone - that he was more aware than what he was letting on.

“I have my ways, darling,” Alastor answered, as the light over their heads casted their shadows against the building’s brick walls. “Just a reliable pair of eyes I send to observe and report when necessary. That’s all.” 

She didn’t notice Alastor’s in particular move on its own accord, giving her a crooked grin and a wink at his master.

“But why?” she asked, truly perplexed, until she realized what she was asking. “No. Wait. I-I don’t - I am absolutely confused about what is going on right now. And you know what? I’m done for the night.”

Amylie began to walk away, dusting her hands of the situation.

“Done. I’m done.”

“But, darling -”

“Nope. No, thank you.” She ignored, walking for the door. “I’ve had a very long night, if you can’t already tell.”

“But I simply wish to tell you your performance was excellent!”

“You must have missed tonight’s show then!”

Amylie opened the door, not giving the Radio Demon a second look, until -

“I meant your performance from a week ago.”

...And just like that, Amylie stopped.

Not just because of Alastor’s words, but from the all too familiar tune from a piano suddenly playing in the air. The slow and steady melody of the song she had performed so many nights ago.

She turned, finding that Alastor’s microphone was radiating the gentle music all by itself.

“When you stood upon that stage, wearing that beautiful white gown,” he continued, wearing an entirely new smile now, “you stood so boldly before an unexpecting audience, as you took your seat at the piano and sang such a...heartfelt song.”

Amylie stared at him, her eyes wide...and she found there were tears welling up in her eyes all over again, and still Alastor went on - recalling that night perfectly:

“You sang your heart out to such an ungrateful crowd. They booed and hissed at your song, but still you went on! Determined to sing it until the final note!”

Alastor clenched a hand to his chest, a look of pure excitement and emotion shining in those crimson colored eyes of his as they poured into Amylie, reminding her of a red sea against a black night.

The melody of her song grew louder when Alastor began to walk towards her, moving in just a few steps closer, where they were both captured in each other’s gaze.

Amylie could have sworn she heard the faint sound of her voice echo from his microphone. 

“And when your song was over, you received nothing but anger and spite from it. All the people whom you believed were your loyal fans shunned your song, shunned _you!_ ”

Then at last, Alastor’s smile relaxed a little, as he said with sheer confidence, “Save for one member in the audience, correct?”

Amy’s eyes widened, a tear falling down the side of her cheek. “That was…”

He bowed forward, confirming her answer. 

“And I’ve been coming ever since then. I’ve been occupying the balcony, sticking around just for your performances alone.”

Amylie was practically beside herself, the realization hitting her.

She couldn’t believe that she was not only speaking to the one person that had cheered after her performance that night, but that it had been one of the most feared Overlords hell had ever seen...and that he was praising it!

A song _she_ wrote!

She put a hand to her mouth, gathering herself back together. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, especially now after he had just recollected that night for her with such passion.

The song melody came to a steady close as well, his microphone falling silent.

She wiped her eyes, clearing her throat. “I-I knew I wasn’t crazy when I heard someone cheering…”

Alastor still smiled. “Was that the first time you ever performed your own music?”

“And everyone hated it.”

“Oh, that’s an understatement, darling.” He chuckled. “Why, they absolutely loathed it! I’ve never seen a crowd so riled up over something so trivial before!”

“Because that’s not what I’m known for…” she frowned. “I don’t sing songs about romance. I don’t sing any of my own songs…”

“You sing what that manager of yours wants you to sing, and wear what he wants you to wear,” Alastor said, to which Amylie numbly nodded at.

She couldn’t even look at him as she did.

Alastor went up to her, that smile of his soft yet encouraging. “Then why not kick him to the curb, darling? Find a better manager - one who lets you perform music written by you.”

“...It’s not that simple,” she said, after a moment. “I’m under a contract by him. If I leave, he’ll tarnish my name worse than he’s already done.”

Amy gave a heavy sigh then. “Besides...even if I wasn’t under his thumb, I wouldn’t have anywhere to go. You heard how everyone reacted to my song. I obviously don’t have what it takes to be a singer…”

“Dear,” he chuckled, “your song was wonderful.”  
  
“You’re just saying that.”

“Music is subjective, darling. What you sing isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea. So a crowd didn’t like one of your songs, what’s the big deal? You have to have confidence in your abilities to make it big!”

“Nobody cares about what I want to sing,” she said, his enthusiasm not reaching her at all, “all I’ll ever be is some show-girl stuck in a casino....”

Alastor stared at her, finding himself at a loss now. It seemed he needed to approach this differently….

His smile softened more, moving around Amylie and placing his hands on both her shoulders, getting her attention. 

“And what if I told you that I care about what you want to sing, more than that sorry excuse for a manager ever will?”

“...” Amylie went to turn away, but Alastor caught her chin with a gentle claw, guiding her eyes back to him.

“You know he’ll replace you as soon as someone else more compliant than you comes along, darling. It’s inevitable. Even with your contract still intact, he’ll sooner toss you away without a second thought before ever giving you a chance.”

“But who would be willing to hire me?”

His smile widened. Good. Now he just needed to start reeling her in.

“Well, lucky for you I know the perfect person in mind! Tell me, dearie, have you ever heard of a place called the Hazbin Hotel?”

She raised a brow. “The _what?_ ”

“The... _Happy_ Hotel, I meant!”

Ugh, even just saying that awful name out loud made his teeth clench. 

Thankfully (even though he was’t) Amylie recognized that name. “I think so…?”

“I’m sure you have! The Princess of Hell appeared on the news to pitch the idea of a hotel that rehabilitates sinners a few months back! Ending in possibly the most hilarious free for all brawl I’ve ever seen! Everyone was screaming, someone was set on fire - such wonderful carnage caught live on the picture show!” he laughed. 

“Now that you mention it, I do remember that.”

“Well, it just so happens that yours truly is a co-manager of that establishment! And Charlie’s always on the look-out for more potential staff members~!” he coaxed, in a sing-song voice.

“How would I be of any help?”

He grinned, “Why, with your preconceived fame, of course! You’ll bring in hordes of demons and sinners by the dozens, like moths to a flame! Charlie and I will be your managers...and we’ll let you sing _and_ write your own music, of course!”

Amylie considered this, glancing at the casino behind her. She couldn’t deny the thought of even setting foot outside here was terrifying, but...that offer was so good...too good to be true, in fact.

She looked back at the Radio Demon, giving a distrusting look.

“How do I know I can trust you?” she asked, needing to be cautious. “The last time I made a deal with someone, I ended up here.”

Alastor’s smile widened even more. Now finally came the best part.

“To be frank, my dear...there is just _one_ thing I want - should you agree, naturally.”

He moved, leaning in just a touch to whisper in her ear, while he reached one hand to something hidden inside his coat pocket. 

...Alastor whispered only two words to Amylie, but they were the most clear and prominent words she had ever heard before.

Then from his pocket he presented a small red box, which opened without him even touching it - and a bright yet warm light shined from it, revealing something Amylie hadn’t seen in decades:

A black and red engagement ring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanna thank everyone who supported the first chapter. I honestly was not expecting that much positive feedback for such a small beginning to this story, or that anyone would even give an OCXCanon story of such a popular character (if not THE most popular character in Hazbin Hotel) a second look
> 
> But a lot of you guys did, and I'm so truly grateful for it
> 
> (Also, pay no mind to the trash part at the start, that is just an inside joke from myself and some friends because every time I describe this story, I always followed it up with "cause ya girl trash lol")
> 
> This is a work in progress story, so I'm still working out some kinks here and there, but I do have a grasp of what I want plot-wise
> 
> I will try and post chapters as frequently as I can
> 
> And for those of you wondering what "dewdropper" means:
> 
> Dewdropper: like lollygagger, a slacker who sits around all day and does nothing
> 
> Thanks again for reading, I hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter :)


	3. BONUS CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the original Hazbin Hotel characters belong to Vivziepop. And yes, this is an OCXCanon story
> 
> To note: This is NOT the official fourth chapter of my story, just a little bonus I thought I'd add to provide a little more context of the events between chapters two and three. I didn't initially add this scene because it's not very long. I felt it didn't have much of a place in two - which was quite long - and so much happened in three that I felt it would have drawn the chapter out a little too much
> 
> But I couldn't resist inserting it into its own little space because despite being short, I thought it would be nice to add some more one-on-one of just Amy and Alastor
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it :)

“Marry me.” 

Amylie froze at those two simple words; but they rushed back memories that were decades old, of a time that felt like a forgotten dream. 

Then Alastor moved, catching her attention as he presented a small red box to her. She watched it open all on its own, a bright light shining brighter the farther back the lid pulled itself.

Amy turned away just a bit, shielding her eyes from the bright light...until it dulled, and there - cushioned safely into a black pillow - was an engagement ring.

A very _large_ and very _expensive_ looking one at that.

She gaped at it, her mouth hanging open only a little in mesmerization. Amy couldn’t remember the last time she had laid eyes on an engagement ring - or even on one that was so breathtaking as this one in particular... 

Alastor, with that ever-present grin, watched her reaction. When she didn’t speak after a few seconds, he cleared his throat politely to snatch back her attention. 

Amy blinked, regaining her senses as she turned back to the Radio Demon. 

“Well, darling?” he asked, with a sort of coyness hinging in his voice. “What do you say?”

“I…” Amy had to look at that ring again, shaking her head as she ran a hand through her black hair. “I, um...wait a moment, please?”

Alastor raised an amused brow as Amylie took a step back, both hands in her hair now as she started processing this. 

“You...are asking me to join you in this... _project_ you’re working on with the Princess of Hell.”

“Correct.”

“So that I can possibly achieve my dream of becoming a singer on my own terms.”

“If you’d like, yes.”

“...On the _one_ condition that I marry you?”

Alastor’s smile widened, and he presented that ring to her once again. “You got it.” 

Amy couldn’t hold back her bewildered look at him. 

“But...that’s ridiculous,” she almost laughed, “we-we’ve only just met! You don’t know me - and I _certainly_ don’t know you! Yet here you are, with an engagement ring at the ready!”

“Well, because I was fairly confident you would say yes.” He replied, giving an unapologetic shrug. 

“... _‘Fairly’_ confident?”

Alastor only beamed at her, well aware what he was actually implying.

She sighed, looking away and holding a hand to her head. She never imagined that the infamous Radio Demon could be so intimidating and exhausting at the same time. 

“Mr. Alastor -”

“Please, dear. We’ve no need for such formalities. Just Alastor is fine.” 

“...This is very flattering and I appreciate you offering a helping hand,” Amy continued, “but...isn’t there something else I can do for you? Anything at all?”

He couldn’t help but inquire, tilting his head to the side a little. “Why the hesitation all of a sudden? I thought you were eager to leave this dreadful place behind.”

“I am, but... _marriage?_ ” she was trying to insinuate to him just how _bananas_ his offer was. “That isn’t exactly a typical offer I would imagine someone of your caliber would make.”

“What were you expecting? Your first born child? Eternal servitude? Your soul, perhaps?”

“Well, quite honestly? Yes.”

Alastor had to laugh. “My darling, I’m no one-trick pony. I never make the same deal twice.”

“I’m also an angel.”

“Oh, those are just labels. Besides, I’ve been coming here to see only _you_ for an entire week now, remember? I’m quite confident if that was a complication in my decision, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” 

“I’m just trying to make sense as to why you want to marry me in the first place,” Amylie admitted, a hand still rubbing the side of her head.

“Does it need to make sense?”

“...I’m not so certain anymore, with you at least.”

He laughed again, admiring her bluntness. 

“Then what’s the point in making sense of it, my dear? Just accept my offer and we’ll waltz right out of this establishment hand-in-hand and bid your manager a farewell!.”

Turning with a heavy sigh, she muttered, “You certainly have a way of making difficult things sound easy...”

Alastor tilted his head a bit at her, pondering his next move. Strange, this wasn't going the way he imagined. He knew she would be hesitant, but not _this_ hesitant. But Alastor didn’t hold it against her. 

He could even sympathize with her, to a degree. 

If someone with a reputation as bloody as his walked up to him with a kind greeting before whipping out an engagement ring in the same breath, he was sure he’d be flabbergasted as well. 

So, once again...he tweaked his strategy.

Just a little. 

Slowly, he moved the box near her again, that wide grin relaxed into a courteous, more light-hearted smile. 

“Why not try it on?” he offered. Even Alastor’s voice sounded warm; much friendlier than usual. “I’m sure you’re curious to know how it looks.” 

Amy looked at it for a moment. The temptation was there in her eyes, until a look of skepticism crossed them, turning it up at him now. She kept a hand to her chest.

Alastor gave a light snort, even a quiet chuckle. If he had a penny for every time someone gave him one of those looks. 

“I assure you this isn’t some ploy to manipulate you,” he told Amy. “Spells like that take a toll on normal rings after a while...and I’d rather this one remain intact.”

Amy raised a brow at him, her skeptic stare falling in the process. Normal rings? 

_So this ring...wasn’t made in hell?_ She questioned to herself, looking at it again.

That curious thought was enough to prompt Amy to finally reach for the ring, until Alastor pulled it back from her hand.

“That being said,” he took the ring out, holding it delicately between two claws, “do be gentle with it. This ring is more than just one of a kind...”

Presenting it to her, Alastor opened his other hand out to Amylie.

Slowly, she handed him her left, and she watched as he gently slipped the ring onto her finger.

...And it was a perfect fit. Not too tight, not too loose. 

Amylie always had slim fingers, and the pure white skin that all angels had made them look more fragile and delicate, like marble. She couldn’t recall a time before now where she didn’t have issues wearing one, or even keeping a bracelet on her dainty wrists. 

She pulled her hand in, the red glow from the ruby reflecting in her pale gaze. Amy was fixated on it, unable to move her eyes away. 

It felt as if...it was _meant_ for her hand. 

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, her thumb gently caressing over the blood-red ruby. 

“That it is...” Alastor agreed, looking into the ring as well.

However, his gaze carried a look of nostalgia and...even longing. But after a blink, both were gone completely. 

And that smile of his widened once again. “What do you think? It seems to fit quite well, if I do say-so myself!”

“More than that,” she said. “Where did you find a ring like this? I’ve never seen one so detailed before.”

“Oh, I’ve had that little thing for ages now, I almost can’t recall just how long anymore.” He replied. “But that matters not. What I would _really_ like to know is if wearing it helps that nasty case of hesitancy you have.”

Amy looked at him, raising her brow again. “You thought me trying on the ring would make me accept your proposal?”

Alastor gave a light-hearted chuckle, followed by another of his unapologetic shrugs. “You can’t blame a fella for trying, my dear!”

“...” Amy actually gave a giggle back at him, “You are charismatic, that’s for sure.”

“Oh? Has my somewhat haughty reputation mentioned otherwise?”

“Maybe a little,” she said, giving another giggle. 

Alastor’s smile broadened when he got another giggle out of her. Even that alone sounded like an aria to his ears.

He had to admit...there was quite a warm atmosphere about her. Alastor couldn’t remember the last time he felt something like this. It only made him more determined.

Alastor... _wanted_ this angel.

Wanted her at his side. 

This was something he had been waiting for - someone to come along and make his life a little more entertaining...even just for a while, at least. 

He couldn’t guarantee what would happen should Alastor grow bored of her, but he was far too intrigued to even consider that yet. 

“Well,” he said after a moment, taking her hand and drawing it just a few inches from his lips, “perhaps...my little proposal could get us better acquainted with each other? Without either of our reputations making things difficult.”

He saw a blush warm on her cheeks, which only increased his confidence. 

Amy swallowed nervously before averting her eyes.

“I...I…”

“Think of it this way,” Alastor smiled, “focus _less_ on the marriage part and more on the benefits you’ll receive. You’ll get to rebuild your mucky reputation, write and sing all your very own original songs...and you won’t be at the mercy of your own manager.”

Amy slowly looked back at him.

“I can guarantee Charlie won’t be sticking her tongue in your mouth,” he added, “she already has someone to do those sorts of things to.” 

Amy paused, taking in what he said. Without meaning to, she turned to look at the casino behind her like before.

And also like before, Alastor gently captured her chin to draw her eyes back on him. 

“You’re wasting away here, darling. You know it as well as I do. And that sorry excuse for a manager will degrade you over and over again, because he knows he has the power to.”

“But...out there…”

“I know it’s frightening, my dear,” he told her, sounding as sympathetic as possible, “but tell me...are you really going to let hell stop you from achieving what you’ve always wanted?”

“...” After a moment, Amy’s hand at her side tightened into a small fist. Steeling herself, she took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. 

Then she looked back at Alastor, moving her left hand out towards him, palm open.

Alastor went to take it, that grin of his broadening, before Amy stopped to point a finger at him.

“If I agree to this...can you guarantee there won’t be any strings attached? Please?”

He chuckled once more, a hand folding behind his back.

“My dear, I can never guarantee such a thing…” then he smirked, “but in this case, I might _consider_ it.”

_That’s better than nothing, I suppose…._ Amylie thought, watching as he now opened his hand to her, awaiting her final decision.

A green glow emanated from his palm, a light gush of wind pulsing between them. Amy, surprised, was tempted to take a step back, but she remained firm. 

Alastor’s smile was now ear-to-ear. It was the widest smile she had ever seen before. There was even a glint of excitement shining boldly in those crimson eyes of his. 

She took in another breath, counting to three...and then - at last - Amylie took Alastor’s hand.

As soon as the skin of their palms made contact, another gush of wind erupted - but this one was much stronger than the one before it. This one blew back both Amy and Alastor’s hair, even catching in his coattails.

The green glow was much brighter as well, making Amy wince. But she never looked away from Alastor, or that beaming grin. 

His gaze was practically engulfing the fallen angel, surrounding her in a sea of red and black. While that jagged gold smile of his looked like it was about to widen right off his cheeks. 

“Welcome aboard, Amylie,” then Alastor gave a deep, almost triumphant laugh, “my dear, sweet fiancée.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the original Hazbin Hotel characters belong to Vivziepop. And yes, this is an OCXCanon story.

A Standing Ovation 

Shortly after kicking Amylie out, Amon made a very important call, using a wired phone he had that was specifically for business.

It was a call he had been dreading to make, finding any excuse he could to ignore it. He took a few drinks from his stiffest liquor to loosen him up, keeping it within arm’s reach as he started dialing the number.

After a few rings, a representative had picked up.

Politely, Amon asked to be transferred to her boss, to which she replied:

“It’s going to be a wait, sir.”

Amon kept his distaste to himself. He utterly despised how hell ran their businesses. There was anything but company integrity there - not that he was surprised in the slightest. 

While demons he was associated with never made him wait during a call, the ones who had no loyalty to him never failed to do the opposite.

And the one big name demon he needed to call was notorious for keeping anyone waiting.

But Amon was a man of (mostly) infinite patience when it came to these sorts of calls.

So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And...waited some more.

Forty minutes dragged by. Amon was starting to sink into his seat, trying to drown out the terrible music the phone was playing while on hold. 

He kicked by a large shot of alcohol in the meantime, knowing he was going plenty when that bastard finally _felt_ like answering.

Then - and thank the ever-loving mercy of God - the music abruptly cut, followed by silence.

Amon blinked, hearing the dial up tone on the other end.

“What the hell? Did that son of a bitch cut the -”

He stopped when he saw his office lights start to flicker. But then his other lights began to flicker, as if something was sapping the electricity from them.

Amon stood, his office starting to resemble one of the rave rooms a few floors down.

Until then -

**BOOM.**

The power cut out.

Amon stood in a pitch-black room now.

He removed his sunglasses, grumbling a curse to himself. “Just my fucking luck. Snoops! Call -”

Another booming sound caught the casino owner’s attention, an electrical current erupting behind him. Followed by a cold blew light.

Amon turned right on his heel, seeing that his TV’s were picking up a signal of some kind. A blue light washed over them, interfering with the graining on the screens.

Then, in what seemed like seconds, a burst of white light brought forth the man Amon had been trying to contact for almost an entire hour now.

“What do _you_ want?” Vox demanded, in that influx voice of his that made Amon’s ear drums rumble. 

His square face of his practically took up half the image, his warped red-black eye peering down at the fallen angel like an insect under a looking glass. 

Amon quickly regained his composure.

He straightened his back, grinning up at Vox. “Vox, baby! About time! I was startin’ to think you were never gonna pick up. Not a very sound business practice if I’m being -”

“Cut the bullshit, leech.” An irritated Vox interrupted, a growl hinging in his tone. “When you call me, you’re on _my_ time. And you’re lucky I’m even given’ you the time of fucking day right now. Now, I’ll ask **again.** What do you want?” 

Amon’s grin widened a bit at the corner of his mouth. He found his cigar box thanks to the light the screens were emanating and lit one, trying not to laugh. He adored getting under the skin of these Overlords so much. 

With his own business rivaling some of theirs, he was more than used to them spitting venomous words like “leech” at him by now. 

“You already know what I’m gonna ask.”

Vox didn’t hesitate. “And the answer’s no.”

“Vox, baby. Hear me out, won’t you?” Amon asked with a long smirk, pulling over his ashtray. “C’mon. From one businessman to another.”

Vox growled again, but it sounded more tame than before, so Amon took the chance.

“A couple commercials, that’s all I want.”

“Get in line, buddy.” Chortled Vox. “If I had a fuckin’ dollar for every time somebody asked for a commercial slot, I wouldn’t have to work!”

The TV Demon’s fluctuating laughter didn’t transfer well over the many many built in TV speakers, causing a slight interference that made a shrilling noise shoot through the room and right in Amon’s ear.

He drew back to save his hearing, wincing a bit.

“Besides…” Vox said then, “what the fuck makes you think I’d even take up your offer? News flash, leech, but your casino ain’t as popular as you like to think it is.”

“Maybe not to you, but I’m sure all my patrons would happily disagree.” Amon replied. “Need I remind you my casino broke new grounds between our kind? I’ve seen angels and demons sittin’ next to each other at my slot machines every day here, even play each other in some poker matches.”

“Oh, my! How _progressive_ of you!” the TV Demon mocked. “Give me a break, Amon. We’ve been onto your bullshit since day one. So you run a joint that lets angels and demons gamble their life-savings away in the same room - big fucking deal. That doesn’t make you special.”

“That may be,” Amon agreed, not disputing that statement one bit, “but then again, popularity _is_ popularity. Like it or not, Vox-baby, I’ve got a reputation. My name’s as weighty as yours and Val’s at this point.”

Amon paused to take in a drag from his cigar, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.

“But, hey, I’m also a pretty humble guy.”

Vox’s eyes narrowed. “That so?”

“Humble enough to ask just what _I_ can do for you to help you change your mind about shootin’ a couple of commercials for me.”

“It ain’t that easy.”

“No, I’d imagine so, _but_ that doesn’t mean it’s not worth a shot,” he persuaded, his smirk beaming now. 

He was somewhat surprised Vox was even considering taking the bait, now all he needed to do was make it seem as appealing as possible. 

“C’mon, Voxxy-baby. Surely there’s something I can do to sweeten this deal for ya. Free membership pass? Honored Guest status? I’ve even got some succubi gals on speedile - kinky ones too.”

But Vox didn’t reply, which made Amon tense a little in panic. He had to throw everything he could think of at him.

“Have you ever seen my best gal? Amylie?”

“...And if I have?”

 _Ah, there we go._

“Well, I’m sure with a little persuasion, she’d be more than willin’ to give you a personal one-on-one show.” He grinned. 

“Hmm…”

“So, whaddya say, Voxxy-baby? Is it a deal?”

“...”

Amon’s grin dropped when Vox suddenly sputtered into laughter. It grew into loud and almost hysterical laughter, the piercing sound returning and nearly deafening the fallen angel once more. 

“Holy shit,” Vox panted, having laughed himself out of breath, “I figured you were desperate, but I didn’t know you were _that_ desperate!”

Amon blinked, not expecting this reaction at all.

“Why do I need you whorin’ out one gal to me when Valentino has a whole bunch of ‘em lined up every time I walk into his studio?” 

“But Amy is -”

“I don’t give a shit how popular she is. If she works for _you_ , Amon, I want nothin’ to do with her.” He refused. “Now, don’t get me wrong, she ain’t bad lookin’ in the slightest. But I’m not about to accept a deal from some fallen leech who thinks he’s tough enough to play with the big boys.”

“Vox, c’mon, I’m sure -”

“Sorry, pal. Not happening. Keep your ass and your overrated casino on that fucking beach - and if I ever find out you’re trying to sneak your way over here,” Vox chuckled, “well, let’s just say you’ll get a taste of hell hospitality!”

Then, just like that, Vox cut the power before Amon could stop him. 

Not a moment after he cut out did the power return to his office.

Amon stood there with his cigar to his mouth. His hand trembled, the muscles so tense the bones of his knuckles were showing. 

But Amon, his anger boiling more by the second, let his cigar burn. He didn’t inhale a single puff of smoke. His gaze turned to a framed photo on his desk of his casino.

It was taken on opening day for Sinner’s Eden, and standing along the front gates were himself and a large handful of his staff at the time.

It had exceeded expectations that day. Amon had never intended for his casino to bolster into popularity as fast as it did, but it was a more than pleasant surprise. 

But with popularity came a string of jealousy from those who had never set foot in his casino, publicly bashing it to dampen any sort of credibility Amon or his establishment had. 

Just the thought alone made a dark scowl darken on the fallen angel’s face, his jaw jutting out with the other half of his cigar still in his mouth. A sneer curled his lip.

He knew contacting Vox was a gamble, but he was so certain he would take him up on his offer. It was only a matter of time before the casino would start to sink, and he needed to find as many ways as possible to keep it afloat.

He had gotten by on sheer luck the past few decades, but he could feel something on the horizon - something biding its time and waiting for the opportunity to ruin everything he had worked hard for….

Just then, the sound of the intercom on his desk broke Amon from his reverie. He rolled his eyes and spat out his cigar before pressing the speaker button.

“What is it?” he asked with a slight growl in his voice, wanting to make it apparent that he was in no mood at the moment. 

It was Snoops on the other ending, stuttering incoherently. “S-S-S-Sir, th...there’s s-s-someone here who…” the imp paused to gulp, “w-w-wants to see you....!”

Amon noticed the tremble in his assistant’s voice, but he didn’t give it a second thought. Snoops sounded like that quite a lot, as he wasn’t the best when it came to handling stressful situations.

“Take care of them yourself, Snoops.” He ordered, moving around his desk and sitting back in his chair. “I’m not in the mood.”

 _“S-SIR!_ ” he hissed, sounding almost as if he was on the verge of a panic attack. “Y-You _really don’t_ want to say no to this - trust me…!”

“For the last time, Snoops, I said no. The fucking idiot should have called for an appoitment if it’s this goddamn important. Now, if you make me repeat myself again, I swear I will come down there with a golf club and -” 

Then suddenly the intercom started to violently pick up static, as if something was jamming itself into the signal. Amon began to draw back in surprise, hearing a frantic Snoops just barely over it.

“Wait, no! No, he wasn’t c-calling _you_ an idiot! Th-Th-That’s just how he speaks about everyone in general! P-Please, I-I’ll - no, don’t! Don’t touch -”

A new voice suddenly spoke over the intercom now, which caused the loud interference to silence not a moment sooner.

 _“_ How in the blazes does this thing work? Does that blinking light mean I’m - oh! _Oh,_ I see now! _Ahem_ , testing! Testing~!”

Amon froze for a moment, an unsettling weight keeping him in place.

The person spoke again, along with the faint grunts of Snoops in the background.

“Begging your pardon for my sudden intrusion, my good man, but I’m in need of an audience with you, and I thought it would only be fair to issue a warning! In other words...you have **one minute!** ”

The sudden morph in his voice was all Amon needed to jolt back to life and act. One hand went right under his desk, pushing back a secret compartment where he pulled out a pristine and stainless silver revolver. 

An angel manager even inches near that infernal pit had to be well equipped.

As Amon pulled out the bullets, the door suddenly burst open - and in ran Snoops, who quickly slammed it shut behind him.

“Sir!” he panicked, dashing over and scrambling on top of his desk. “Sir! Whatever you do, do not make him -”

The imp stopped when he saw his boss loading the revolver. “Wait, you-you aren’t really going to-to use that, are you?”

“Just stay out of the way, Snoops.” Amon told him. “You dying would be a heavy inconvenience for me currently.”

“B-But, sir, that-that won’t -”

“Won’t what? That was a demon on the other end just now, right? This baby will sort the cocky bastard out just fine.”

“Sir, _please!_ You’re not listening! That wasn’t just _any_ demon, that was the Radio -”

Both stopped just then, their eyes gliding straight to the door when they caught the sound of an unfamiliar show-tune growing closer and closer. 

Amon cocked his gun, his finger hovering just over the trigger as he moved around his desk.

Snoops wasted no time in hopping on the other side and taking cover underneath, more aware than Amon just who would be walking into the room any second now. 

With the passing of that one minute, the door opened again, a red glow pouring into the room. 

Amon’s grip tensed a little, meeting the crimson gaze of a demon he wasn’t expecting to encounter. That yellow-toothed smile was broad, just like the rumors of him had whispered.

The fallen angel closed in, letting the demon take one step forward before fearlessly pointing the barrel of his revolver right between his eyes.

“Hold it right there, you son of a bitch.” He warned, causing the Radio Demon to stop in his tracks. 

...And Alastor still smiled, looking down at the fallen angel with a mute anticipation. His hands were tucked behind his back, standing in the most non-threatening pose as he caught just a hint of his reflection from Amon’s black sunglasses.

Alastor could almost laugh. Ah, if he had a penny for every time someone greeted him with a dangerous weapon pointed at him…

“Do you greet all your hellish guests like this, or am I just a special case?” he sarcastically inquired, tilting his head just a touch to the left.

The barrel followed his head tilt, as if Amon had anticipated his movement. 

He smirked back at him. “Just for the ones that like to barge in unannounced...can’t be too careful with a bunch of demons in my building, now can I?”

Alastor had to laugh. “Ha! I would think you were mad if you believed otherwise!”

“Well, I’m glad we see eye-to-eye on the matter. Now...get the fuck out, before I stick this little bullet right into that rotted brain of yours.” 

“Oh-ho!” laughed Alastor again. “That was quite a turn! And we were having such a pleasant conversation just a second ago!”

The barrel was pressed against his head now, right at the center of his forehead. Alastor could feel his skin warm under the touch of the angelic metal the revolver was made of. 

“Cut the bullshit, you grinning sycophant.” Amon growled, that smirk grimacing a bit. “You think I don’t know who you are?”

“To be quite honest? The ‘fucking idiot’ remark was a dead giveaway.” 

The fallen angel chuckled at that, tilting his sunglasses down a bit to eye the Radio Demon down. 

“Man...and here I thought you were just some rumor demons spread around to scare people.”

“I certainly hope I’ve met your expectations.”

“Oh, more than that. You’ve exceeded them so much that…” Amon cocked his gun, “I’m giving you to the count of three to turn around and get your scrawny ass the **fuck** out of my casino.”

“Sir!” hissed Snoops from under the desk. “Be careful! Don’t make him angry…!”

“I don’t give a shit who you are,” Amon said, his finger still over the trigger, “nobody - and I mean _nobody_ \- is gonna walk in here and fuck with my business. And you can tell your other Overlord friends I said that.”

Alastor couldn’t help but raise a brow. “Friends? Is that what you think we all are? Well, Vox, Valentino and Velvet likely are - but I assure you, we’re not some chumy club that gets together every week for tea and cakes.”

“I don’t give a shit what you guys are,” Amon glared, “all I care about is you getting the hell out of my casino!”

He felt his blood start to boil when Alastor gave a care-free smile.

“My, my, quite aggressive, aren’t we? And here I just wanted to have a friendly discussion!”

“Third and final warning, you grinning freak,” he threatened, growing impatient with Alastor by the second, “leave. Now. Before I pump your skull full of lead!”

The two made eye contact for a few seconds, neither blinking as the air in the room tensed. 

Amon could feel the urge to tremble in his muscles, but he stifled it down through sheer willpower. He couldn’t deny the rumors he had heard about him were true; there was definitely something about this guy’s face that could make even the bravest of souls afraid - especially because of those eyes and that smile.

It occurred to Amon that this man hadn't once blinked since entering this room. He gave off an aura that only made the fallen angel tense.

He was a threat, and Amon wanted him gone - one way or another.

“...Well, I can certainly see I’m not wanted here,” Alastor said then, giving a callus shrug. “Who am I to argue with the manager of such a famous and well-esteemed establishment?”

Amon blinked at that, caught off guard by the Radio Demon’s unexpected back down. But he quickly regained his confidence and smirked.

“Glad to be seein’ eye to eye again.”

He turned, summoning his cane in the process. That smile ever so bold and wide. 

“I’ll see myself out. Have a wonderful night, gentlemen!”

Amon glanced at Snoops, who was still hiding under the desk, and gave a bold grin of undaunted satisfaction with himself. He was so smug he would have gladly kissed himself if he could!

Until then - Alastor stopped to say:

“Oh! And Amylie has already put in her resignation! She sends her regards~!”

Amon mindlessly nodded, too wrapped up in his pride to fully process what Alastor had just said. 

“Sure thing, tell her I said…”

…

In a heartbeat, Amon’s smug look fell. 

But rage took its place in the same moment.

He didn’t hesitate to pull his gun out and aim, firing without any ounce of hesitation. The bullet _just_ missed Alastor’s head, parting his hair as it swept past him and into the wall ahead of him.

He stopped, his back to the now glaring casino owner as the tense atmosphere came pouring back into the room.

“Say that again,” demanded Amon, his glare so intense it would have surely killed Alastor if it had the power. “What about Amy resigning?”

Alastor took a moment before turning to face him, his smile filled past the brim with self-satisfaction for bringing out such a rewarding reaction from the smug fallen angel.

“What more is there to explain? She’s retiring from your establishment. Plain and simple, my friend.”

Another shot, this time brushing right past the other side of Alastor’s head, once again sweeping past his hair. But Alastor didn’t even blink or twitch. That smile barely dropped an inch. 

“Keep talking shit like that and the next one goes right between your eyes.” Amon threatened. “How do you even know her anyway? I’ve never seen you in my casino before now.”

Alastor’s smile widened a little. “Oh, I never stay for long. I come just to watch her performance, and then I take my leave.”

Amon looked over his shoulder for a moment to give Snoops a dark and very bitter glare. It was his staff’s job to inform him when an Overlord so much as sneezed in the direction of his casino.

The imp trembled on the spot, backing further under the desk as he gave a head shake at Amon, just as shocked by this as he was.

“Don’t hold it against your staff,” Alastor said then, getting the casino owner’s attention again, “I’m not that popular of a face compared to the many others from my group.”

“So I’ve got some Overlord nobody tryin’ to steal my best gal?”

Alastor laughed at that, his smile almost ear-to-ear. “Trying to steal? My good fellow...how can I steal that which never belonged to you?”

Amon’s blood was boiling hotter and hotter by the second, and he turned that intense glare back on his assistant again.

“Get Amylie up here. Now!” he snarled. “And make it snappy!”

Snoops wasted no time. He zipped from under Amon’s desk and out the door like a little red lightning bolt, eager to avoid the tense room with two dangerous men staring each other down. 

“If you’re lying -”

“Then you’ll shoot me.” Alastor finished, getting quite used to that threat. “You’ve made that quite apparent since the moment I set foot in here, my friend. And the only two shots you fired didn’t even touch me.”

Amon moved in, practically nose-to-nose with Alastor with that glare burning a bright fiery green. 

“Keep talking, you son of a bitch! It only makes me wanna shoot you more!”

Alastor smiled tensed a little; he wasn’t fond of someone breaking _his_ personal space. His lips curled, some gums peeking out from under the curve. 

His eyes narrowed, gladly glaring right back at Amon as the two growled at each other like a couple of beasts fighting over territory. 

“Amon!”

Suddenly, both their guards broke as they turned, and there in the entrance stood a frantic Amylie, now wearing her usual attire. It was a dark violet dress-shirt where the V-neck shaped collar hung around her shoulders. Its long sleeves hugged her arms, showing off how thin yet long they were. The hem ended just over her thighs, which were covered by night-black leggings. They also quite accented her long features, despite Amylie herself being admittedly short in stature. 

She looked between Alastor and her manager, almost frantically. She moved in, walking on a pair of plain brown shoes that came up to her thin ankles. 

“What are you doing waving that gun around like that?” she lightly demanded, sounding a bit out of breath. She carried a light jacket under her left arm.

Amon paused a moment before answering, noticing that Amy was standing closer to Alastor despite griping at him about the rules all angels - fallen or not - were meant to obey.

Any killings committed by an angel on a day that wasn’t the annual Extermination date was strictly forbidden.

But that dire rule was on the cusp of being broken by Amon at the moment. 

He sneered at Amylie, targeting his anger at her now as he pointed a finger. 

“You better start talking now, you -”

“There you are, my darling!” Alastor interrupted, moving himself between the two fallen angels (with a slight shove at Amon). 

His once tense smile relaxed the instant he laid eyes on Amy and he took her hand into his own, that charisma of a gentleman all over him now.

“I must say, this new attire suits you. Much better than that other outfit, if I might add!”

“Th-Thank you…” Amy replied, her eyes shifting back and forth between him and her manager.

“Are you all packed and ready to leave?” he asked then, giving a slight glance at Amon as he did.

Just as he expected, a look of shock and bewilderment fell over him now. He looked down at their hands for a moment.

Amy answered again, nodding up at the Radio Demon. “I am…” 

“Wonderful!” Alastor beamed. “Then let’s get that nasty contract of yours taken care of and then be on our way!”

“Hold on!” Amon shouted. His voice nearly cracked, he was so loud.

Amy naturally jolted at his shout, but Alastor only widened his smile as usual. He even wrapped his arm around her shoulders, just to add salt into the casino owner’s wounds. 

“Amy, you can’t be serious!” Amon demanded, his sunglasses a heartbeat from falling off his nose. “You’re really leaving? And with this prick?!”

Gulping, Amy hovered her hands around her chest nervously. She looked up at Alastor, who looked back at her and gave her a nod.

This gave her the push she needed to look her manager in the eye now. 

“I...I am, Amon. Whatever he’s told you already, it’s true. Alastor and I are...are a, um…” she hesitated.

Amon gave a look. “What? You two are a what?”

“Oh. I almost forgot to mention...” Grinned Alastor, his chest puffing out a little as he looked at Amy once more. “Go ahead and show him, Amylie-dear.”

Amy gave a light blush, switching her jacket off her left hand and into her right so that she could hold it out for Amon to see….

There, seated perfectly on her left finger was an engagement ring. And not just any plain kind - but an art deco!

It was oval shaped, a blood-red ruby in the center with a black, masterfully decorated band holding it together. 

The whole ring was half the size of Amylie’s digit, but it was seated so perfectly. As if it was made for her finger alone. 

Amon couldn’t take his eyes off it, but his sneer remained.

Alastor took her left hand, bringing it to his lips while staring Amon down. 

“I suggest you think about your next words carefully, my friend…” he warned, flashing the fallen angel a dark grin, “you’re addressing my _fiancée_ now.”

Amon’s hand tensed into a fist, his teeth bared. But then he let out a long exhale, rubbing that same hand through his hair and pulling it back as his eyes settled on Amylie. 

“...All this, just because I won’t let you sing your music?” he condescended, shaking his head at her disapprovingly.

“It’s more than that and you know it is.” She said, meeting his eyes. 

“You don’t even know him.”

“No,but he was there that night when I sang my own song.” 

Amy looked at Alastor again, and she actually returned his smile. It was small, but still genuine.

“He was the one who applauded it.”

Amon took his sunglasses off to rub his face, feeling a headache start to come on. He let out a groan, placing the gun on his desk as he leaned up against it.

“Man, babes, you just…” 

But Amon stopped, giving up now. He knew he couldn’t fight this. 

Reaching into his cigar box, he pulled one out and lit it with a lighter he took out of his pocket. 

“You know what? Forget it.” He said, his cigar in his mouth as he walked around his desk.

He went for a tall filing cabinet pushed up against a corner of his office, pulling open one of the drawers and shifting through the dozens and dozens of files inside it.

Alastor and Amy exchanged a look together, but both had a different reaction to Amon’s actions.

Amylie had been expecting her manager to put up more of a fight, possibly even point that gun at Alastor again and threaten for him to leave.

Alastor, on the other hand, was quite glad he receded his stance so fast. He’d almost wished the bastard had shot him; it certainly would have been more entertaining than having it waved in front of him for so long. 

Finally, Amon found the file he had been searching for. He came back and slapped it on his desk, giving Amy a side-glare the entire time.

Amy’s name was written on the small tag attached to it. 

“There. Your contract. Do with it what you will.”

Amy didn’t hesitate. She flipped it open and ripped out the one chain linking her to this wretched place. 

She looked it over, holding the thin sheet of paper with slightly trembling hands. Amy looked it over one last time before she finally ripped it in half, letting the pieces fall to the ground at her feet.

Amy then dusted her hands, putting one on her hip as she gave Amon a smirk. 

“What was it you said before? About how I should be getting on my knees and thanking you for all the success you brought me?” 

Alastor’s smile widened in satisfaction at his fiancée. Seemed even a frail little thing like herself had a pair of claws hidden away. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Amon dismissed, rolling his eyes as he took a drag from his cigar, “ain’t this the part where you and your new hubby ride some fuckin’ chariot into the sunset or something?”

Amy went to say something, until Alastor stepped in, eyeing Amon suspiciously. 

“Well, before we do any of that, I need to ask...where are you storing the copies?”

Amylie blinked at that. “Copies?”

“Of your contract, dear.” He elaborated. “I highly doubt a man who was so good at keeping you under his thumb would only have _one_ copy of it.”

But Amy was doubtful, shaking her head. “What? No. Why would he go through all the trouble of making more than -”

But she stopped when Amon - without batting an eye - suddenly kicked at something hidden along the side of his desk, and just like that another filing compartment sprung open. It shot out, almost hitting the wall in the process. 

Startled, Amy gasped, a hand going over her mouth. 

Inside it were dozens upon dozens of Amylie’s contract - each one a copy, and with her signature on every one of them. 

She gaped in shock at them, while Alastor barely arched a brow. 

“Just as I thought,” he said. “That paranoid about losing the original, were you?”

Amon didn’t reply, or even look at them. He simply continued smoking his cigar.

Amy took one of these copies, unable to speak as she looked it over. It was a perfect copy of the original; and no doubt the rest inside the secret cabinet were as well. 

Then Alastor raised a hand. With the snap of his fingers, all the words vanished off the page, dissipating into the air as a puff of dark red smoke.

His strange spell affected all the other copies, the words disappearing into thin air until the cabinet was filled with blank papers. 

Alastor turned to look at his fiancée, noticing she was still gazing into the empty paper with that look of cold shock on her face.

But then a scowl suddenly darkened those soft features of hers and she lifted her head to cast a glare at Amon, crushing the paper under her tense fist.

“You...you controlling...manipulative....unimaginable -”

Amylie couldn’t put her current feelings into words, looking as if she was almost on the verge of tears. 

So she threw the crushed paper at him, which bounced right off her now ex-manager. 

He didn’t bat an eye at her glare, but he glanced at Alastor with a patronizing look.

“Have fun with her,” he said with a smirk, “she ain’t as innocent as she pretends to be.”

Amy went to say something in her defense, but was surprised to find Alastor spoke up a heartbeat before she could, flashing a grin right back at Amon.

“Oh, please. As if I’ll take advice from a man whose relevancy is as empty as his threats.”

That jab made Amon’s eye twitch, his demeanor tensing as well. 

Yet his cocky smirk remained. 

Amy blinked at Alastor, quite...impressed. This was the first time she had ever seen someone who was not only brave enough to stand up to Amon, but also hit him right where it hurt. 

Her eyes widened when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, beaming that smile down at her.

“Come now, my darling. I think we’re done here~!” 

Amy felt a blush under her cheeks, but she ignored it as she shyly returned it and nodded.

The new…‘couple’ turned, Alastor holding his arm around hers like a gentleman as they went for the exit together.

Amon glared daggers down their backs, unable to refrain from spitting his venom solely at Amylie.

“Don’t come crawlin’ back when he kicks your ass to the curb, babes.” He sneered. “You’ll have no one but yourself to blame when he does!”

Amy tensed, but she did her best to ignore him.

Alastor glanced at her, widening his smile a little as he leaned his head in a little closer to her ear and whispered:

“My, you were right, darling. He really _doesn’t_ know when to shut up.” 

Amy couldn’t hold in a smile, albeit a small one, but a smile all the same. They even exchanged a faint giggle together.

...Then Amon foolishly took it a step further. 

“Stupid fucking whore.” 

One of Alastor’s ears flicked at those abhorrent words. 

He came to a stop mid-stride, catching Amylie’s attention.

She blinked at him, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. He was frozen like a statue, still wearing that smile on his face. She noticed he was staring forward at nothing with an almost...contemplative look in his eyes. 

Amy tilted her head a little; odd. He seemed so tense all of a sudden.

And tense he was, indeed. 

Then, slowly, his smile widened. And a low chuckle followed.

He turned back to look at Amon, slipping his arm from around Amy’s so that he could fold them both behind his back. He beamed at Amon now, a strange excitement glinting in his eyes.

“You know, I just had a thought,” he said, starting towards the casino owner now, “I don’t think disposing of my fiancée’s contract will suffice anymore.”

Amon raised a brow, watching Alastor close in suspiciously. “Is that so?”

Amy felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, hesitating taking a step towards the red demon. “N-No, Al-Alastor, please. It’s all right -”

But her words fell on deaf ears, as he continued:

“Since you talk like such a big man,” he grinned, sauntering closer to the fallen angel with an intense look in his eye, “I’m certain you can act like one as well.”

Amon maintained eye contact, one hand slowly moving behind his back….

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Amylie noticed the look in Amon’s eyes now, making the sinking feeling in her stomach intensify. She could feel the intensity in the air return - and one of them was about to break it!

The edges of Alastor’s intense smile curled high up his cheeks, seeming to reach the corners of his eyes. Black gums showed once again under the curls of his top lip, a snarl rolling from his throat.

“You should get on your knees and beg for forgiveness.” 

Amy swallowed, moving a trembling hand out towards him. “Alastor, please...that’s not necessary. He doesn’t have to -”

“Oh, but it is.” Alastor growled, those eyes of his starting to emanate a low glow. 

He moved with an alarming speed, grabbing Amon by his vest and pulling him in close until they were almost nose-to-nose; Alastor could smell the cigar on his breath. 

“Because I for one find the thought of such a confident man begging for his life **very** entertaining!”

The graining in Alastor’s voice was gone as he growled this, his pupils beginning to morph into two small red radio dials.

Amon felt a drop of sweat cascade down the side of his head. He was trembling, but he still managed a smirk, keeping his fear controlled.

“I’d like to see you try...”

_Click._

“You grinning freak!”

In a heartbeat, Amon pulled out the silver revolver from behind his back, lining the barrel right under Alastor’s jaw perfectly before firing.

The shot went off in a flash; Amylie screamed and shielded her eyes as fast as possible. Demon or not, the thought of seeing spilt blood terrified her.

And the sound of a gun going off never failed to make her shriek... 

Amon on the other hand was grinning ear-to-ear now. He had been aching to put a bullet in that stupid deer’s skull the second he flashed that morbid smile at him. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to hear all over the news how he - the _leech_ of Sinner’s Eden - shot and killed an Overlord who had threatened his business!

...But the smirk dropped as soon as it came when he found that Alastor had disappeared. 

After the flash went off from the gun, there was nothing before Amon. 

He didn’t have time to process where he had gone before a binding grip had taken a hold of his wrist, twisting it and yanking his arm back behind his head in the process. 

Amon cried out in pain, dropping the revolver. 

He turned his head around to see who had grabbed him.

There he was, grin and all. Unscathed by the bullet. 

“My, my. I must say I’m impressed.” Complimented Alastor. “It seems you’re a man of your word after all.”

The fallen angel grunted, trying to force his arm from his surprisingly strong grip. “Y-You bastard…!” 

“Come now,” Alastor chuckled, “did you really think I was just going to stand there and let you shoot me? That move was so obvious, even an imp would have seen it coming a mile away.”

Alastor tightened his hold around Amon’s wrist, starting to break every ounce of fight in him. He twisted until he was met with some resistance, wishing he could see the pain on his face by now.

Amon still tried to yank his arm away, but the pain was starting to become overwhelming. He tried to remain focused, trying to find where on the floor he had dropped the revolver.

Then Alastor - the merciless bastard he was - suddenly lunged his other hand forward and dug those red talons around Amon’s shoulder.

He cried out again, his free hand grabbing Alastor’s sleeve in a feeble attempt to pry it off, leaving his guard broken so he could kick Amon’s knee out from under him.

Powerless to stop it, Amon fell to his knees on the floor, cursing out in pain.

“AUGH! FUCK, MAN! FUCK!”

Alastor could hear the sheer pain straining in his voice, blood warming under his hand from the tips of his claws digging themselves deeper into his flesh by the second. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked in a low rumble.

“YES!”

Alastor moved in, speaking right into his ear now. “Is the pain unbearable?”

“YES! IT IS!”

That smile of his couldn’t have been any wider now.

**“Do you want me to stop?”**

“Y-YES!”

“Beg,” he ordered, twisting Amon’s wrist again, just a little. 

He didn’t want to break it too soon. Oh no, Alastor wanted to savour every second of this wonderful torture. 

“Look at my fianceé and beg her to make me let you go!” 

Amon’s eyes were shut tight, so Alastor flexed his claws to make them pop open. He cried out, jolting and opening his eyes from the shock of pain.

 _“Look at her!”_ Alastor snarled, those yellow fangs just inches from his ear.

But Amon bit his lip, looking down at the floor as he refused to give into Alastor’s orders. He tried choking down the pain now.

“You’re so fucking dead, you motherfucker…!” he grunted, sweating bullets. 

He even tried looking up at Alastor with a glare as he made this threat, but the Radio Demon had not earned his reputation from being a pushover.

If this stubborn angel was going to ignore the pain through sheer will, then Alastor was going to inflict more and more until he’d break in body - even in mind, if need be. 

He chuckled. “Fine. I’m game. I’m curious to see what will break you first. My claws, or…”

Alastor twisted Amon’s wrist more, slowly fighting back against the resistance his joints were putting up.

“Snapping your wrist from its socket.”

Alastor was just about to twist it again, when suddenly -

 _“Stop!”_

He froze, the new voice catching his attention, followed by hands gently grasping his arm.

Alastor blinked and turned, finding familiar pale eyes pouring into his…

It was Amylie, standing between him and Amon with her hands gently grasping the arm holding her now ex-manager’s. Though her hold around Alastor’s coat sleeve was soft, there was still a sense of desperation in it.

And he could see it in her gaze.

“Please, Alastor.” It almost sounded like _she_ was the one begging. “Please...it’s all right. The contract was enough. Please…?”

“...” He paused, looking into her pale eyes as he considered his next move. But after some silent debating, he gave a light snort and let go of Amon, removing his arms from her hold without hesitation.

“Well, since you asked so nicely, darling.” Alastor smiled, resuming his previous demeanor from a minute ago without missing a beat. 

Amylie moved as Amon dropped to the floor, cradling his wrist as he growled, cursed and snarled in pain. 

She turned to Alastor again. “That was a little much, don’t you think?”

“On the contrary, I think I was being a touch too gentle with him!” he beamed. 

“ _That_ was gentle?”

“Of course! His arm is still attached, isn’t it?”

Amylie opened her mouth to say something, but then shut it. She had a feeling she was just going to run in circles with this argument. 

“Now, then!” Alastor said, stepping over Amon without so much as a glance down at him so that he could turn on a heel to face Amylie. He offered her his hand once again. “Let’s take our leave from this place, shall we, my dear?”

Amy went to take it, until a snarl from Amon made her freeze.

“You leave with him and you’re done, babes! You hear me!? DONE!”

Those words sent a cold chill down her back, as the reality of her situation was starting to set in. To leave here with Alastor - becoming not only his employee but also...future wife - meant she would have to leave the one home she had for decades behind her. 

What if things didn’t turn out well for her out there? She would be all alone in hell. 

...Her fingers curled back, trembling a little at the thought. But she looked back at Alastor again. 

He still waited, still holding his hand out to her. He met her eyes, His stare unblinking. Solid. Yet still...she could detect a tenderness in them. 

A tenderness she hadn’t received from anyone in a long time. 

His smile widened then, as if he had read her thoughts. 

She returned it, moving her hand out and taking it.

Alastor pulled her over as she hopped over Amon, and he even picked up her jacket from off the ground and handed it to her..

Like before, they turned their backs to the fallen angel and started out the room.

Amy ignored Amon shouting her name, refusing to even look back as they continued down the hall. 

She looked up at Alastor yet again, giving a curious look towards him. 

He was still brimming with confidence, that smile unfazed. 

She couldn’t help but exhale a shaky breath.

Alastor’s ear flickered when he heard it, turning to look at his fianceé curiously.

“Nervous?” he inquired.

She nodded at that. “Just a little…”

“My advice, darling,” he said, leaning in a little so that only she could hear, “smile as you walk out of here. It will help. Trust me.” 

Amy raised a brow at that. She wanted to question it, but she had a feeling Alastor knew what he was talking about. 

After all, all he ever seemed to do was smile. 

They walked past crowds of demons and sinners, even a few angels watching from a distance. The new couple carried every gaze they unintentionally caught, but Alastor paid none of them no mind. 

He was more than used to being stared at by now.

But Amylie felt the weight of their eyes on her back, as well as the distance between her and the casino’s front doors grow smaller and smaller by the second.

A thought from the back of her mind told her to turn back, but she buried it deep into her subconscious as much as possible. 

Amy glanced at Alastor one last time...and then she smiled.

She didn’t show teeth like he was, but it was still broad, mimicking his stride even as she readjusted her bag around her shoulder.

Even relaxed her hand around his arm. 

Alastor glanced at her once more, seeing she had taken his advice. 

He saw his shadow from a wall across from him. His familiar gave him a thumbs up, nodding proudly at Alastor.

He almost wished he could watch them from the outside. No doubt they looked splendid walking out together with a pair of their own smiles. 

Alastor waved a claw and summoned the front exit open so that neither he or Amylie broke their stride, leaving a hefty crowd of curious and puzzled demons behind them. 

He looked down at her engagement ring then, seeing the blood-red ruby glint in the city lights overhead. His smile broadened at it.

What a truly entertaining night this had been! 

He was definitely going to remember this for a long time to come.

Now...all he needed to do was introduce her to the others, and _hope_ for the best. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so tempted to name this chapter: "An Unstoppable Force Meets an Immovable Object" 
> 
> But I suppose that's just a better summary of this chapter as a whole
> 
> Hope you guys liked it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the original Hazbin Hotel characters belong to Vivziepop. And yes, this is an OCXCanon story.

What's the Worse That Can Happen?

Amylie followed Alastor from Limbo and into hell without so much as a break in her stride, and without a word. Even when she took a moment to put on her jacket, the new…“couple” barely said anything to each other.

She would glance at him every now and then, just to see if maybe - just _maybe_ \- she’d catch him without that smile. It wasn’t humanly possible for someone to smile as much as he seemed to.

But, then again…

Amylie somewhat doubted if he _was_ ever human.

“...Is there something on my face?” Alastor suddenly inquired, and Amy internally jolted out of her skin. 

He turned to her, acting casually with a curious look. “You haven’t been able to pry your eyes off me since we left.”

“S-Sorry!” she apologized apprehensively, averting her eyes to the opposite side of him. A flush of embarrassment darkened on her pale cheeks.

To her surprise, Alastor hummed a chuckle at her reaction, coaxing her to look at him again.

“My dear, it’s quite alright. I’m not going to be cross with you for the simple act of staring! I get it quite a lot, actually!”

“That’s...not very surprising,” Amy admitted, giving a shy smile at him. She was surprised how slowly she relaxed into conversation with him. “I’m sure someone as famous as you must have a hard time getting around sometimes.”

“Quite the contrary,” he replied, with that blunt smile, “most people in their right mind turn heel as soon as they see me. Why, I’ve parted crowds of strangers faster than Moses did with the Red Sea!”  
“Is that so?”  
“Very much so. Although on the brightside, I never have to wait in a line anywhere,” he joked. “And it’s nice never having someone bother me whenever I go for an early morning stroll!”

Amy gave a friendly snort at that, her smile widening a little. His charisma was more magnetizing by the second. It still kept her aback that she was easing around a man who she only heard about from warning posters and very hushed whispers of frequent patrons from Sinner’s Eden.

A complete stranger with a very dark reputation...and here she was wearing an engagement ring he had given her and on their way to join this merry band of ‘associates’ of his. 

A word he’d seemed slightly hesitant to use after Amy inquired about the other staff members of this ‘Happy Hotel’.

Walking through the downtown area of Pentagram City was a breeze thanks to Alastor, who strolled along the sidewalk with his arm clasped firmly around Amy’s. He carried on talking, paying no mind to the demons that were staring at them from far away. 

But Amy did. She noticed every pair (sometimes less or more) of eyes watching them. One would think she wouldn’t care about being stared at, but her reputation had done the opposite effect. 

Amylie hated it. No one - angel or demon - ever just _stared_ at her.

They were always gawking.

Ogling.

She wouldn’t dare imagine what was going on inside their minds’ eyes.

This was almost worse.

Here was an angel walking casually alongside a demon - an Overlord, nonetheless. 

She couldn’t help but avert her gaze away, putting her free hand over the side of her face so she could hide from all the many eyes on her and Alastor.

She had completely drowned out Alastor, who was in the middle of telling her a story which he found quite funny.

He stopped when he noticed how anxious she was all of a sudden, although he didn’t have to turn his head to know why. He had felt everyone watching them since the moment they left the casino.

Though this was nothing to him. People gawked at him all the time (inside and outside their hiding spots).

Yet he was curious about her reaction.

“Feeling self-conscious, my dear?”

Amy glanced at him. “I wouldn’t put it like that…”

“I would think someone in your line of work would be used to this sort of thing by now.”

“Yes, but…” she gulped, her hand still hiding her face. “I was on a stage with some distance from the guests.”

She took a risk and lowered her hand just a little, only to quickly put it back when she noticed a few more demons watching them from the otherside of the street.

“Not out in the open like this.”

“Come now,” Alastor insisted, “they’re just staring, darling. You’re letting your paranoia get to you.”

She flashed him a slight look, that overly-optimistic attitude anything but helpful right now.

“Need I remind you what happened at the casino with those two drunk demons?” 

“Oh, that was hardly anything to cause worry!” he disregarded, almost laughing. “Not every demon here is as crude as those two were!”

A blush darkened on Amy’s cheeks now. She looked away again with a slight scowl wrinkling her brow. She wasn’t surprised her discomfort fell on deaf ears. Of course someone as boastful as Alastor wouldn’t hide away from gawking eyes.

She doubted he could understand, even if he tried….

Alastor meant to turn away, but his gaze on her lingered for a moment. He noted that scowl on her face, as well as that flush. It seemed his attempt to downplay her anxieties had backfired.

He gave a playful sigh then, moving his arm around her waist. “Oh, well. If you insist…”

“I didn’t insist any-” 

Alastor didn’t give her a chance to finish her gripe when he smoothly came around her, switching positions along the sidewalk. He was beside the street now, keeping the apprehensive fallen angel out of view from the eyes of strangers.

He even kept his arm around her waist, as if to add an extra layer of security. 

Amy blinked up at him, but Alastor didn’t bat an eye or drop his smile. 

“There!” he grinned. “If you can’t see them, then they can’t see you!”

There was a pause on her end...and slowly her mouth closed, followed by her looking away. 

Any trace of her scowl was gone. 

However, the blush remained; glowing softer than it was before. 

* * *

She was surprised how far out the hotel was into the city. It was the only building still standing in a small pocket of absolute nothing, looking like a broken blemish with the bright lights of the city shining from a distance.

The building was a monstrosity, both in height and presentation. Amy had to tilt her head back just to get a view of the structure, trying to count the many windows along just the front of the structure.

She even noticed the many large balconies hanging off it as well. 

Alastor grinned at the perplexed face she was making. 

“What do you think?”

“Is that a boat sticking out the side?” she asked, pointing the very obvious front half of a massive, moss-riddled steele ship molded into the building’s structure.

“Actually, that’s a ship, darling,” he corrected. “But your eyes do not deceive you!”

He then pointed a claw to the lower middle of the hotel.

“There’s even a train just a few feet above the entrance, right there!”

“...And is that a merry-go-round by the sign?”

He laughed. “Why, I think it gives it character! Don’t you agree, dear?”

“It certainly gives it...something, all right.” She replied, returning his smile with a bashful smirk, trying to be nice.

After all, she didn’t want to come off rude about her new...job?

“Well, I agree it’s no five star casino,” Alastor said, walking her towards the entrance, “but you know how the saying goes, darling - ‘Never judge a book by it’s cover’!” 

Then he leaned in to whisper in Amy’s ear. “Do bear in mind we only have _one_ maid on hand currently. So, I do hope you aren’t the type who dislikes clutter!”

“I don’t mind,” she assured, “a little clutter never bothered me.”

Heh. A _little_ clutter. 

“Oh, you’ll see…” he muttered, about to open the door. Until it occurred to Alastor that he was about to introduce a new member upon his unsuspecting staff.

The deer turned on a heel not a moment after this thought struck him. “One more thing, my dear!”

He leaned in, whispering to Amy once more. 

“Do keep the marriage proposal just between us for the time being.”

“Why?”

“Let’s just say the others in there weren’t expecting me to return with company tonight.”

Amy felt a little apprehensive at that. “It’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

“Oh, not at all. But let me do all the talking. My staff isn’t quite fond of my surprises sometimes, and while I’m more than certain they’ll be very hospitable towards you, mentioning our engagement might cause a few heads in there to spin.”

She couldn’t help but raise a brow at that. “They would be more upset about that then they would at seeing an angel in their hotel?”

“Charlie doesn’t carry the same animosity towards your kind like other demons do.” Alastor explained with that broad smile. “After all, she’s half angel herself. I’m sure she’ll be glad to have someone new around to talk to!”

“That’s a...good thing.” Amylie admitted, still a little nervous. “But what about the other staff members in there?”

“Oh, who cares what they think?” said a nonchalant Alastor, his cheery attitude making Amy’s skeptic look return. “Charlie’s favor is the only thing you need to earn.”

“But I want the others to like me too.”

“And they will,” he replied - to which Amy smiled - until he added, “unless they don’t, which both are out of my control!”

She let out a groan, starting to rub a temple. “If this is your idea of a pep talk, it isn’t very helpful.”

He put a hand on the door, giving her a wink. “Don’t worry so much, darling! I’ll handle it! Just wait out here for a minute, I’ll be right back!”

With that, Alastor entered the hotel, the door closing behind him by itself.

Amy sighed softly, folding her arms together as she began to wait. 

Well, either this was going to go very smoothly...or very badly. Considering he said the same thing back at the casino before heading to Amon’s office, she couldn’t help but be a little doubtful at his ‘don’t worry’ remark. 

* * *

Alastor hummed as he came through the door, his magic closing it behind him.  
“Oh, honey! I’m home~!” he announced, strolling right over to the bar area with a bounce in his step.

Also there was Husker and Angel Dust, who had been in the middle of pradling on and on to the cat about his pet hell-pig.

They both looked at Alastor as he snagged one of the freshly cleaned glass cups.

“Pour me something strong, won’t you, Husker?” he requested, giving his old friend that broad grin. 

“The fuck have you been?” asked the winged feline, raising a crabby brow at him as he poured him a shot of whiskey. 

Angel raised one as well. “You’ve been gone for hours, Al.”

Alastor kicked back the shot in one gulp, wiping his lips.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed. Must have lost track of time.” He replied, looking around. “Have either of you seen Charlie? I need to speak with her. And is Niffty around?”

“She’s probably upstairs,” Angel replied, “and Niffty’s busy in the basement takin’ care of all the vermin crawlin’ around down there. What for -”

“Oh, Charlie~!” Alastor called, gladly ignoring the spider as he went to the stairs.

He and Husker exchanged the same puzzled look. Angel gestured at the deer in confusion, but even he had to shrug.

Upon hearing her name called, Charlie came down the stairs with Vaggie following right behind.

“Al, there you are!” the princess greeted, almost sounding relieved. “You’ve been gone so long. We were starting to get worried.”

Vaggie snorted, crossing her arms resentfully. “Not _all_ of us, mind you...”

“Much appreciated, Vagatha,” Alastor smiled, almost mockingly, “always a ray of compassion and sunshine, you are.”

He ignored her narrowed glare as he turned his attention onto Charlie.

“Do forgive my tardiness, dear. But I got a tad sidetracked tonight, sort of speak.”

“It’s all right,” assured Charlie, “I’m just glad you made it back in one piece.”

“You know, if you actually got with the times and bought a fuckin’ cell phone, it’d be easier for you to keep in contact.” Angel said, whipping out his pig-patterned phone to emphasize his point.

“Oh, please,” replied the old radio host, giving the device a distrusting glare, “I need one of those _things_ like I need another hole in the head.”

Vaggie put a stern hand on her hip. “Just where _have_ you been?” she asked suspiciously, knowing it wasn’t like Alastor to just lose track of time.

He turned back to look at the girls, his smile tweaking into a wide smirk. “Well, to make a long story short: I’ve brought a new guest to add to our little staff of misfits!” 

Every head turned right to him not a moment after he said that. 

Charlie was the most surprised, her eyes seeming to widen and gleam with excitement as she beamed right up at him.

“You did?! Alastor, that’s amazing! Where are they? I want to meet them! Vaggie, get a room ready! Husk, Angel, get out the welcome banner! We -”

She stopped when she felt Alastor place a hand on her head, giving a laugh.

“Take a breath, sunshine. Don’t get carried away in your own welcome wagon now.”

“But this is great news! We haven’t had a single guest here in months! I don’t want to make them feel even a slightly bit unwelcomed, especially since they’ll be joining the staff!”

Vaggie, while she wanted to be excited along with her beloved, couldn’t help but be skeptical. She moved between the two, her one eye narrowing at him.

“Don’t you think you should’ve run it by Charlie first before just bringing a new staff member here? She’s the hotel manager here, remember?”

“If I recall correctly, Charlie and I are _co_ -managers.” Alastor reminded, his smile dripping with a smugness only someone like him carried. “Which means if I want to bring a new member on board, I’m more than obligated to. After all, it’s for the good of the hotel!”

“I don’t see why we even need another new member,” Angel remarked, leaning against the bar table, “what else do we need? Husk is the front desk guy, Nifty does all the cleanin’ and cookin’, Charlie and Al make the rules, _I_ bring in the lookers, and Vaggie does...whateva the fuck she does, I guess.”

She shot him a fiery glare at that. “Loads more than you, you lazy, sack of -”

“Because a bigger staff means more attention to the hotel,” Alastor explained, gladly interrupting Vaggie and Angel’s tiff (which was a daily occurrence at this point), “and trust me, she’s very good at catching attention.” 

Charlie smiled curiously at that. “She?”

“She?” demanded Angel, not too happy over this news. “Aw, great! Anotha broad! Like we ain’t got enough of those ‘round here!”

Husk rumbled with an eye roll. “I can only imagine what kinda gutter you dragged this one from…”

Alastor gave a slight glare at that, until Charlie spoke up.

“Hey, come on, you guys. Don’t talk about someone like that. We haven’t even met her yet. You can’t assume someone’s character by the quality of their company.”

“Have you forgotten the quality of the guy that found ‘er?” Angel asked, gesturing to Alastor.

“Angel,” she scolded. 

“Right, if we could move this along,” Alastor interrupted, heading towards the front door, “our new addition has been waiting patiently outside.

Charlie didn’t hesitate, hurrying to the front desk where she pulled out a large box hidden behind it labeled in black marker:

**HAPPY WELCOME BOX**

Which she labeled, of course.

From it, she pulled out a multi-colored banner that was covered in glitter, stickers and doodles of clouds and rainbows with “WELCOME NEW HAPPY TEAM MEMBER” spelled out in different colored foam letters that was clinging to the fabric by old glue.

Along with the banner, Charlie also had tiny DIY flags with “welcome” drawn on them, and even a hat that had “HTM” sewn on it.

Charlie was a pro at making anyone feel welcomed, and nothing was going to stop her from showing their new staff member some hospitality.

She quickly handed Husk and Angel the tiny flags, while she and Vaggie unfurled their makeshift welcome banner and held it together.

“Okay, everyone!” she cheered. “Big Happy Hotel welcome on three!” 

Husk and Angel only groaned and rolled their eyes simultaneously, halfheartedly waving their flags.

The countdown began as Alastor walked closer to the door.

“One…”

He put a hand on the knob.

“Two…”

The door began to open.

“Three! Welcome to the Happy Hote -” 

But the welcome wagon came to a screeching halt once the group saw just _what_ was on the other side of the door.

At first glance, she could have been mistaken for a very pale, black haired demoness...until they saw those feathered wings on her back, and that very faint heavenly glow surrounding her for just a heartbeat. 

Those wings were the very first thing the gang took notice of, as she had her back to the door for a few seconds. She turned once she heard it open, blinking pale blue eyes at the shocked group of demons. 

Except for Alastor, who held the door open for her and gestured inside with that courteous grin at her. 

“Amylie,” he greeted.

The angel slipped a lock of smooth black hair behind her ear as she entered inside with just her suitcase, walking with a grace that made that hotel crew almost do a double-take. 

Once she was inside, Alastor closed the door and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, leading her towards the others. 

Suddenly, Angel’s shock morphed into confusion as he studied this angel. She seemed...familiar, somehow. He raised a brow; he could have sworn he’d seen her before.

“Everyone, this is Amylie,” Alastor proudly introduced, “as of tonight, she is now a member of our fine establishment!”

A ring of tense silence filled the room, all eyes still gawking at the angel standing just a few feet from them all. 

Amy averted her eyes to the side, letting out a quiet sigh. Well, this was going any way but smoothly.

“Well, don’t all greet her at once!” Alastor said, trying to help liven the room back up. When they all remained silent, he gave a shrug. “Alright! Looks like I'll be in charge of getting everyone acquainted!”

In a heartbeat, Alastor gently pulled Amy towards the closest member in the room, which was Angel Dust.

“My dear, this effeminate fellow you see before you is Angel Dust,” he introduced courteously, “he was the hotel’s very first guest!”

Amy was surprised to not only hear the spider speak, but he even leaned in a little closer to get a look at her.

“Al, ain’t this that broad you were all hung up on from that -”

No one saw the very brief hand motion Alastor made, touching his thumb and finger together and motioning to the left.

Suddenly, the spider’s lips zipped shut together, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Alastor then guided her towards the bar cat, ignoring Angel’s muffled shrieks and feeble attempts to open his mouth. 

“This fellow here is my good friend Husker!” he beamed. “He’s in charge of running the front desk of this fine establishment! Not to mention he’s a master in the arts of bartending!”

Amy was polite and gave him a smile, sticking her hand out. “It’s very nice to -”

“Feelin’ ain’t mutual, sweetheart,” Husk rumbled, taking a bottle of cheap beer conveniently hidden behind his bar and chugging down a mouthful. “Save the niceties for someone that gives a shit.”

Amy, disheartened, pulled her hand back, holding it to her chest.

Alastor gave the cat a slight look, before whispering to Amylie: “Trust me, his bark is worse than his bite.”

Husk growled at that, glaring Alastor down, until he noticed a ring on Amylie’s left hand. He cocked a brow, catching just a glimpse of the red gem embedded on it before Alastor guided her over towards Charlie.

“And this here is the very -”

“That’s close enough!” interrupted Vaggie, moving swiftly in front of Charlie protectively, staring down Alastor and Amylie.

He didn’t bat an eye at her anger, but Amy shifted her eyes between them apprehensively - as was Charlie.

Both of them could feel the tension start to build. 

“Vaggie…” she said calmly, but the feisty moth didn’t back down.

“Have you lost your mind?” she demanded at Alastor, baring her fangs at him and pointing a sharp finger at Amy. “You can’t just bring someone like _her_ here! She’s a -” 

“Lost soul with no place to call home!” Alastor said, holding Amy closer to him by her waist. “Why, the poor girl was all by her lonesome when I found her! Not a friend in the whole world who could help her! Isn’t that right, dearest?”

Alastor waved his brows at her, hinting for her to agree. 

“Oh, um...pretty much?” she shrugged, giving a nervous smile.

Vaggie narrowed her one eye instantly, that sneer tight on her face.

“Come now, have a heart, dear Vagatha,” Alastor persuaded, “you wouldn’t just abandone a poor young lady in need of shelter, would you?”

...His gaze slowly drifted over her shoulder, right at Charlie. Their gazes locked, his smile seeming to widen as he added:

“It would go against everything the hotel stands for.”

Charlie’s eyes widened at that. She looked over at Amy, noticing how apprehensive she was. Even looking a little guilty for causing a stir like this among the other staff. 

Before Vaggie could continue arguing, Charlie put a hand on her shoulder, getting her attention. 

“Let’s...take this somewhere else, guys.” She said, nodding to the kitchen. “Somewhere private.”

Vaggie snorted and crossed her arms, but she complied and went to the kitchen, along with Angel and Husk.

Charlie was the last, glancing at the two before she decided to enter the kitchen as well to wait for Alastor.

Amy blinked and looked up at him, seeing him sigh.

“Forgive me, darling, but it seems you’re going to have to wait again.”

“Really,” she said, rather meek, “I-I’m sure I can find a motel nearby. I have enough for a room. It’s no trouble at all.”

“I’ll hear no such thing,” he denied, meeting her eyes. “Just wait for me here. I’ll sort this out.”

“B-But…” yet Amy hesitated, looking down with a frown. 

Alastor paused at her. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure they were alone before he raised his hand and caressed the side of her cheek ever so gently with the back of his claw. 

She blinked softly and looked at him, his action catching her by surprise. 

“Smile, my dear,” he told her, giving Amylie a genuine smile of his own, “you know you’re never fully dressed without one~!”

With that, he turned and went to the kitchen, closing the door behind him. 

Amy froze in that spot, processing what had just happened. She moved her hand over the cheek he’d caressed, the touch of his claw still lingering on her skin. 

Just like before, a blush brightened on her white cheeks, as she realized:

That was the first time a man had ever caressed her face like that.

She gave a sigh then, taking the chance to look around the room. 

Nothing seemed all that interesting, until her eyes fell onto what appeared to be a table pushed up to a wall opposite of her. It was covered by a white cloth, with boxes piled on top of it.

Amy tilted her head, noting the shape of the legs.

She quietly walked over and pulled up the cloth, surprised to discover that this was no table at all.

But a grand piano.

A very ancient-looking one at that.

She traced her finger along the design on the fallboard. It had been ages since she’d last seen a grand piano.

Amy gave a curious glance over her shoulder, wanting to make sure she was all alone... 

* * *

The staff meeting continued in the kitchen, where Vaggie was pacing in a circle.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said to the Radio Demon, “you expect us to just take in this angel you found, because you think she’ll help bring more attention to the hotel?”

Alastor gave an unapologetic shrug, sitting neatly at the table with his hands folded. “When you boil it down like that, then yes.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking joking!” she argued, glaring daggers at him. “That would have an _opposite_ effect on the hotel’s reputation! No demon in their right mind is gonna wanna stay under the same roof as an angel!”

“Need I mention that Amylie is a fallen angel?” he corrected. “You all saw the color of her wings. I doubt she and heaven are on anything but good terms right now, and she doesn’t bare any ill-will towards us demons.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s an angel! You know, the people that kill us on an annual basis!”

Alastor chuckled in disregard. “Please, she wouldn’t harm a fly!”

Vaggie growled, starting to mutter Spanish under her breath while glaring with such intensity at Alastor that Charlie stepped in.

“This isn’t a laughing matter, Alastor.” She said rather sternly, putting a hand on Vaggie’s shoulder as she stepped forward. “We have a right to be concerned when you drop a bombshell on us like this so unexpectedly.”

Leaning in a corner was Husker, who gave a loud snort. “You get used to it with him…”

“I’m rather surprised at you, Charlie,” Alastor said, eyeing the princess with a high brow, “a minute ago you were rolling out the red carpet for Amylie. Now that you know she’s an angel, all of a sudden she isn’t allowed on it anymore?” 

Charlie crossed her arms. “Don’t twist what I mean, Al.”

“I’m simply analyzing your attitude. After all, I can’t help but be skeptical when you preach about how our hotel is a place that welcomes all sinners, only for you to hesitate opening the doors to sinners who aren’t demons.”

Vaggie intervened then, slamming her hands on the table and leaning in at Alastor suspiciously. 

“Just how did you meet this woman, anyway? I’ve never seen a fallen angel walking freely around hell before, and here you just find one out of fucking nowhere!”

“Well, if you _must_ know,” Alastor began, crossing his legs, “I met Amylie in limbo of all places.”

The feisty moth raised her brow. “Limbo? What for?”

“Wait…” Charlie pondered, “isn’t that where that really popular casino is? What’s it called again? The Sinner something….”

Both Angel Dust and Alastor answered at the same time:

“‘Sinner’s Eden’.”

“Yeah, that place. You and Angel went there a week ago, right?”

Now it was Angel that snorted, sucking on a popsicle he’d snagged from the freezer. “Yeah, cause none of you other stingy bitches wanted to go. I had to beg Al to come with me - and what does this fucker do? Abandons me to go check out some fucking dinning theater!”

Alastor gave a slight eye roll. “Forgive me for not sharing your thrill of gambling. But yes, that was where I met Amylie. She’s actually the star attraction of the casino…” he paused to give a light chuckle to himself, “well, _was._ ”

“I don’t see what the big fuckin’ deal is about her,” Angel shrugged, “what she and I do ain’t that different.”

Alastor blinked at that, turning to Angel with an almost bewildered look. “Yours and Amylie’s professions are vastly different. _She’s_ actually a performer.”

“Hey, people pay good money to come see me just like they do her! We both wear skimpy outfits and sing some _highly_ suggestive songs! The only difference bein’ is she’s still wearin’ clothes by the end of her performance!”

“She doesn’t sell her body for money.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.” Chuckled Angel. “That gal’s stupidly popular. Ain’t no way she hasn’t done some favors for all those ‘loyal fans’ she’s got.”

Alastor leered at the spider, turning his head away from him as he took a moment to shake his head, deciding to ignore Angel and his brainless assumptions. 

“Regardless of Amy’s reputation, her being an angel shouldn’t deny her access here.” He told Charlie, resuming the topic of discussion. “She despised her life at the casino. So I took it upon myself to offer her a better work of investment here, where her talent can be put to better use.”

“Talent?” Charlie asked.

“Her voice, of course. She has - and you must forgive the expression, but - the voice of an angel. Her popularity is overall positive. As I mentioned, she was the shining star of Sinner’s Eden. If people found out that the heartthrob from limbo was here at this hotel, her loyal admirers would come here from far and wide to meet her.”

“Or they’re gonna avoid this place like the plague if they find out we let an angel stay here.” Vaggie argued. 

Alastor gave her a cocky look, amused at that. “My dear, they do that already. All I’m doing is thinking what’s best for the hotel.”

“And you honestly think bringing an angel on board is going to improve anything?”

“I admit, it’s a gamble. And a hefty one at that. I know I can’t ask you to completely agree with my decision, but I assure you that Amylie will make a wonderful addition to our staff.”

“...You’re certain she isn’t a danger to anyone here?” Charlie asked him then, catching Vaggie off guard.

“Charlie!”

“Charlotte, my dear,” Alastor said, looking the princess in the eye with that smile, “if I was even the slightest bit doubtful of Amy’s character, do you really believe I would have brought here?”

She paused then, that contemplative look crossing her face again. She turned, seeming to debate with herself.

Vaggie went around her, holding her shoulders as she began to plead with her beloved.

“Charlie, please, you can’t really be considering what I think you’re considering.”

“But if she has nowhere else to go,” Charlie sympathized, “it wouldn’t be right to turn her away just because she’s an angel.” 

“Hon, your heart is in the right place, but this is an angel we’re talking about. Alastor barely knows her. Fallen or not, we can’t trust her!”

“I-I know, but maybe…”

The room came to a slow silence when they heard the faint sound of music playing in the other room. It was a piano. The melody was soft and gentle, and a sweet voice hummed along. It was almost barely audible, but the quiet of the room drowned out any access noise that could potentially muffle it.

The group glanced around at each other, but it was Alastor who stood. He walked over to the door and quietly opened it, just a little, and found it was Amylie who was playing.

She was at the piano that was pushed in the far corner of the lobby, which was being used as a spare table for the many boxes of stuff piled out of the way.

Her back was to the door, too involved with the music to turn away.

The Radio Demon...paused, as he recognized the melody of the song she was playing. It was the same song she had performed the very first night he laid eyes on her.

That wonderful, brilliant song that remained in his head for days on end.

She was humming the lyrics, seeming to get a feel for the ancient piano. The light above her head shined a gentle glow down on her like a spotlight as the dust billowed around, making her appear more heavenly than the casino ever did. 

Her head softly bopped to the melody of her song.

Alastor’s smile widened as he stepped to the side of the door so that the others could see Amylie play. Charlie, Vaggie and Angel watched...and they too seemed to fall under the spell of her playing.

“Wow,” Angel quietly muttered, actually impressed, “I never heard her play something like that.”

“She wasn’t allowed to.” Alastor told them. “Her manager never permitted such kind. It’s why she wanted to come here; in the hopes she could freely perform the music that _she_ wishes to sing.”

Charlie looked at him when he said that. “You mean she wasn’t allowed to play her own music?”

“Apparently all the songs she performed were written by other people. Amylie only ever sang one of her very own pieces, and it didn’t exactly go in her favor. That’s what brought her here.”

Alastor took a moment to listen to her playing.

“All that little dove wants is to sing her own music.”

Charlie continued to watch, the debate she was having with herself dragged on the longer she stared at the angel. Alastor’s words were more than accurate when he’d said taking Amylie in was a high gamble; just as Vaggie was right that it could be detrimental to the hotel.

She could already hear her father scolding her, sternly disapproving at the idea of sheltering one of the - as he would put it - the “enemy”. 

And yet, despite all this, turning Amy away didn’t sit right with her conscious. 

She gave a light sigh, her mind made up. 

“Well...maybe we can let her borrow that old piano for practise,” she said, turning and giving Alastor a small smile. 

He bowed his head gratefully at her, as Vaggie turned to her in concern.

“Charlie, are you sure?” she asked, looking her in the eyes.

“Honestly?” the princess chuckled. “I’m...not, and I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but Alastor’s right. The hotel is meant to be like a beacon for people to find a way to better themselves. If we shut Amy out because of what she is, then it makes us no better than the Exterminators. Besides, she’s a fallen angel, so...that technically makes her a sinner too, right?”

Vaggie went to say something, but she stopped and let out a sigh. 

“Alright. She can stay,” she crossed her arms, shooting a distrusting look at Amy’s back, “I mean, I’m not fine with it. But I trust your judgement.”

Charlie smiled at that and looked at Angel, wanting his opinion.

But the spider only gave a lazy shrug and a headshake, indifferent to the decision.

Then she looked at Husk, who was raiding the fridge for a drink. “I don’t give a shit either way. I’m here for the endless supply of booze and free food, not for the mushy bullshit.” He grumpily reminded, closing the fridge door with his tail.

“Then it’s settled!” Charlie beamed, before entering back into the lobby. 

The sound of the door opening caught Amy’s attention this time and she turned to find Charlie behind her, with the other staff members standing off to the side.

She blinked and quickly moved away from the piano, folding her hands behind her back.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” she apologized. “I should have asked first!”

“No, it’s alright,” Charlie assured with a friendly head shake and a smile, “I’ve gotta say, you’re really talented.”

Amy felt herself flush at the compliment. “I-I thank you…” she bashfully replied, looking away shyly. 

Then, suddenly, Charlie offered her hand out to her. “We didn’t get to introduce ourselves. I’m Charlie.”

Amy blinked, giving a glance over at Alastor.

He nodded, prompting Amy to shake the princess’ hand.

“A-Amylie,” 

“Sorry about before. As you can see, we don’t normally see angels down here when it’s not, um, you know.” Charlie awkwardly chuckled, doing her best to give the fallen the warm welcome she was overdue. 

“I just hope it won’t be a problem?”

“What? No way. I mean, it’s a big adjustment, but Al told us everything.” 

Gently, Charlie took hold of both Amy’s hands, giving her a genuinely warm smile with a gaze as equally kind. 

“This hotel exists for the sole purpose for someone to work through the issues in their lives that brought them here in the first place. And we don’t shut our doors on anyone, demon or not.”

Her eyes widened at the half-demon, quite shocked that an offspring of Lucifer’s was so compassionate.

Then Charlie beamed a smile at her. “So, welcome aboard, Amy!”

“Th-Thank you…”

“C’mon! I’ll give you the grand tour! Then we’ll get a room all set up for you!”

Charlie pulled her along, already talking her ear off about the hotel as she led her upstairs to find a room, with Vaggie and Angel following.

Alastor watched them leave, leaning against the bar table as Husk resumed his task of cleaning the glasses.

“Well, that went smoother than I thought.” The deer demon smugly said, cocking his head to the side.

Husk glanced at him. “Aren’t you goin’ to join in on the tour? You co-run this joint, don’t you?”

“Please,” he disregarded, taking a seat. “Charlie would never let me get in a word edgewise. I’ll wait until she’s settled to add whatever may have been skipped over.”

Then there was a pause. Which was uncommon between the two demons.

Husk set a freshly cleaned glass down, moving onto the last one when Alastor abruptly broke it.

“You’re very quiet, old man.” He mentioned, taking the glass he’d left and filling it again. “Have something on your mind?”

“...Yeah, fuck it,” Husk rumbled, “I’m curious.”

He set the glass down and threw the damp rag over his shoulder, giving Alastor his full attention. 

“Is everything you said back there true? That broad really is _the_ Amylie from that fuckin’ casino stuck in limbo?”

“Oh, you’ve heard of it?”

“Course I have. It was the talk of the town when it first came around.”

“So I’ve been told. And to answer your question, yes. That’s the ‘heart-throb of Sinner’s Eden’, or so they referred to her as. I’m rather surprised you didn’t go with Angel when he got his hands on that pass.”

“I make it apparent to not put money into a joint I might eventually get kicked out of.” Husk shrugged. He was notorious for being thrown out of casinos. 

During a game, he would be kicked out for cheating, or getting into a fight for catching someone else cheating. 

Even though Husk was the type who never _tried_ to start a fight, he'd make damn sure to end it.

“Besides,” added the winged cat, “I heard the place is overrated. It might look all fancy and high-brow but it's no better than all the other casinos that let you walk in for free.”

Alastor had to chuckle. “Well, you are the connoisseur of gambling.”

“So I take it that’s the place you’ve been disappearing to for a week now?” Husk inquired.

“I’m sure you already know the answer to that, old friend.” Alastor cheekily smiled.

“Guess the joint must be a real shit-hole afterall if you talked the broad into coming to this side of a shit-hole.”

“I have my ways.” 

“...I also saw that rock sittin’ on her finger.”

“Oh, did you now?” 

“I can only imagine where she got an old ring like that...”

The Radio Demon chuckled again, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Nothing gets past those feline eyes of yours do they, Husker my friend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Glad I finally got this chapter out!
> 
> Had to break it up because this bad boy turned out to be longer than I thought it would be, and I didn't want the chapter to feel like it was dragging lol
> 
> But the next bits are the ones I've been looking forward to writing (and hopefully it won't take me half as long to put out) so needless to say I'm quite excited to start the next chapter
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed :) see you in the next one


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the original Hazbin Hotel characters belong to Vivziepop. And yes, this is an OCXCanon story

The Little Songbird

To say Amylie got a tour of the hotel was putting it lightly.

Charlie showed her every room of importance (even the not-so important ones). Thankfully, she never lingered too long with each one, sometimes stopping to show her some of the paintings, portraits and statues that served as the hotel’s inner decor. 

The hotel felt like an amalgamation of family memories and storage; for every family portrait Charlie showed, there was a tower of blank boxes that were crushing each other under their weight. 

_I guess this explains why Alastor made that face after I said I didn’t mind a little clutter..._ Amylie thought, just as the tour finally came to a close.

Charlie presented the fallen angel to a door, beaming at her as she said:

“And here’s your room!”

She opened it, revealing...a very plain, very wide and very barren room - save for a queen-sized bed, a balcony on the outside and a spare bathroom. 

She flipped the switch as they entered, Charlie’s two companions - Angel Dust and Vaggie - following behind them. 

“I know it isn’t much,” Charlie said, walking around the room, “but this room is all yours. You can decorate it however you want. And you even have your very own balcony, a working bathroom - oh, but just be careful when you shower because sometimes we’ve had issues with the showerheads, um...popping off?”

Charlie’s smile became sheepish at that, as if anticipating a negative reaction from her new staff member.

Amy paused a moment...but then she gave the princess a polite but tight smile. “It’s, um...very nice. A very nice room.”

Angel, who was leaning against the wall with a freshly lit cigarette, couldn’t hold back a snort.

“You can be honest, babes. It’s a total shit-sho -”

Vaggie unapologetically interrupted the spider’s snide comment, using her trusty spear to slice his cigarette in half. She stomped the hot end out with her foot, grinding it into the dirty wood-work of the floor as she gave him a cold leer.

“We’re in the process of finding someone who can help put the place in proper order that’s more suitable for guests.” She explained, turning her light-pink gaze towards Amy now. Her scowl seemed to tighten a bit once she locked eyes on her and crossed her arms. “But I’m sure Alastor explained that to you already.”  
Amy lightly nodded, needing to look away from Vaggie’s intense gaze. “Y-Yes. He mentioned there was only one maid at the moment.”

“That’s Niffty,” Charlie said, cheerfully, “she’s currently preoccupied taking care of our vermin infestation, so we’ll make sure you two are introduced first thing tomorrow.”

Amy jolted a little as soon as the word “vermin” passed through her lips. 

“Vermin? Do you mean like rats?”

“Toots, we got more than just rats ‘ere,” Angel said. “Bugs, mites, mice - you name it and it’s probably got a nest or two somewhere down in that dank, dark dungeon of a basement.”

Charlie noticed the sudden pale look on her face. “Oh, you don’t have a phobia, do you?” she asked, concerned.

“Not exactly,” Amy replied, heading for her new bed, “I’m just not a fan of rats, that’s all.”

“Then I’ll tell Niffty to make sure they’re long gone from here.” Assured the princess. “It’s the least I can do. Is there anything else you need, Amyl...A-Amyl-”

Amy tried not to sigh. Once again, her strange-sounding name caught another tongue for its collection. Why her mother was so fascinated with such a strange name as ‘Amylie’, she would never know. She gave Charlie a kind smile.

“ _Ah-ma-lee,_ ” she helped pronounce, more than used to it after all these years, “and just ‘Amy’ is fine. It rolls a lot easier off the tongue, that’s for sure.” 

Charlie returned the smile and nodded. “Right. If there’s anything else you need, don’t be afraid to ask me or Alastor for anything.”

“Well, ask Charlie before Al,” Angel chuckled. “You’ll learn pretty quick he ain’t the type that likes bein’ asked stupid questions.”

“Angel,” Charlie scolded. “Don’t listen to him, Amy. Alastor’s really nice, er…” she stopped to think of a better word. “Well, polite. Very polite ninety-nine percent of the time. But I’m sure you already knew that after being around him a little.”

Amy had a brief flash back to the casino, when Alastor had Amon on his knees with that gruesome arm lock he had him in....

“About Alastor,” she unconsciously held her hands together, one finger tracing over her engagement ring, “how exactly would the three of you...describe his character?”

Charlie, Vaggie and Angel all blinked at her question. They exchanged a glance at each other, pondering on that.

Charlie was the first to speak. “Um, well...he’s very sure of himself a lot.”

Vaggie didn’t hold back, crossing her arms sternly. “He’s the definition of condescending. The first day he showed up, he just strolled right in here without any warning and made himself the co-manager of the hotel.”

Angel shrugged, “I wouldn’t kick him outta bed - not that he’d even _touch_ my bed with a ten-foot pole. But to call him arrogant is puttin’ it mildly.”

Amy fell silent yet again...feeling a light sinking feeling of regret start to swallow her. The ring around her finger felt cold now, and she tried to avoid glancing at it. 

“I see…”

“Alastor’s just...very complicated,” Charlie added. “Not that I think that that’s a bad thing. I mean, he is an Overlord and all. He’s bound to keep some things about himself private.”

“That’s very true,” she agreed, still averting her gaze.

Charlie couldn’t help but tilt her head, detecting something was off. “Is there something you’re worried about, Amy?”

Amylie gave a polite smile and shook her head. “Not at all. I was just curious, nothing more.”

“In that case, we’ll get outta your hair. Remember, let us know if you need anything at all, alright?”

Amylie gave another grateful nod at the trio. 

Vaggie was the last one to exit the room, but she surprised Amy when she suddenly came to a halt, lingering between her room and the hallway. She whipped around, looking her up and down for a moment before motioning two fingers back and forth between her eyes and Amy.

Now...Amylie was not exactly caught up with the times, being a young woman who had lived during the roaring twenties to early thirties (she didn’t even know what a ‘cellphone’ was until just a couple years ago). 

Though she was eager to learn some of the new ways people expressed themselves nowadays.

This very straightforward gesture of suspicion went straight over Amylie’s head, as she mimicked Vaggie’s stern face and hand gesture right back at her...then gave her a very sincere smile, beaming with pride at how well she copied Vaggie’s “farewell” sign. 

Vaggie stood there for a hearty few solid seconds, utterly dumbfounded at the oblivious fallen angel. Then she gave a loud eyeroll and finally left, too tired to so much as address the sheer absurdity of the past few seconds.

Once they were gone, Amylie let out a long sigh. She hoped she could start to relax now.

Setting her bag on the bed, she took out the very few clothes she had taken with her from the casino. 

Being in a hurry, Amy only took the essentials: such as a nightgown, an elegant dress for special evenings, a casual outfit and an extra pair of shoes. 

She went over and opened the closet beside the bed, gasping when a cloud of dust filled the air, followed by a few moths flying out. 

She thinned the cloud with a few waves of her hand, peeking an eye open to look inside. She was half surprised to find it was completely barren.

This made her pause for a heartbeat; it had been decades since Amylie had laid eyes on an empty closet.

“Well, it’s not at big as the one back at the casino, but maybe I’ll have an easier time choosing outfits now.” Amy looked back at her very limited choices of clothes now. “ _When_ I get more outfits, at least.”

She put the clothes away, leaving only the nightgown on the bed.

Amylie took out the other essentials she brought with her, such as her make-up, hair brush, her favorite bottle of perfume and a bottle of special oil she used frequently on her wings to keep her feathers in good condition.

She placed all these things on her bed as well, knowing she was going to need a few of them after the bath she was eager for.

At long last, Amylie entered the bathroom, which she was relieved to find quite clean. Though there was some discoloration on the floor tiles and inside the tub, she avoided paying it any mind as she turned on the bathwater.

Within minutes, Amylie was soaking up to her shoulders in warm water, finally starting to relax. 

During this peaceful time, her mind began to wander.

And only one single person consumed her thoughts.

“Alastor...”

She glanced at the sink, where her engagement ring was seated on top of a washcloth to keep it safe.

The reality of everything that had happened the last few hours then began to catch up with Amylie. It was hard for her to believe that just this morning she had woken up inside the casino, like every morning that had come before. 

Now she was here, in a run-down hotel with a bunch of random demons - one of whom being her new fiancé.

Who was also one of hell’s most powerful beings.

“...Well, I’m sure mama would be glad I’m marrying someone famous,” she muttered to herself, lost in thought. 

Then she let out another long sigh, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. 

“What in the world have you gotten yourself into, Amylie? Accepting the marriage proposal from a random stranger like that?”

If this was supposed to be the start of a long-lasting career that she would actually be proud of, it wasn’t exactly how she imagined. 

The marriage part she was hoping would come later, anyway. 

And Alastor wasn’t exactly the type of man she imagined to _be_ marrying. Not just because he was a demon, but there were a few specific aspects about him that she hadn’t noticed right away when they’d first spoke.

His aroma wasn’t very potent, but still quite noticeable. He smelled of mud, moss and dirty water - making her wonder if he routinely trudged through swamps on his off-time. After being surrounded by strangers of vast but pleasant fragrances back at Sinner’s Eden, his musk was quite jarring when she first caught it. 

Then there was his smile….

It didn’t drop once. Not even for a moment. 

How was it possible for someone to go that long smiling?

Surely, the muscles in his cheeks and lips weren’t _that_ durable.

And then, lastly, there was the incident at Amon’s office.

Now she understood clearly why there were so many warning posters scattered around about him. 

While Amon wasn’t exactly someone who knew proper self-defense techniques, he still wasn’t someone that could be caught off guard easily. To him, using a gun was as simple as breathing, and he had very precise aim and an unhesitant trigger finger to match.

How Alastor could move faster than a bullet was beyond her comprehension, but she still couldn’t get that image of him pushing Amon down on his knees like that out of her head. 

She had never seen Amon like that before - never seen him...look so scared.

And all over Amon calling her a whore. 

The way Alastor suddenly froze and looked at him _still_ sent chills up Amylie’s back just thinking about it.

She didn’t even want to imagine what might have happened had she not intervened when she did. 

Amon was a terrible person, no doubt, but losing an arm over calling her a whore was extreme.

It made Amylie quite trepidatious. 

Was it that easy to anger Alastor to the point of physical violence?

Amylie gave a long sigh again, trying to relax into the warm bathwater. No, she shouldn’t judge him like that, at least not yet. He did have a reason to react like that.

Then another thought occurred to her, realizing:

“I can’t remember the last time someone got so angry on my behalf before...”

She shook her head after muttering this aloud. Good lord, was she becoming desperate?

Still, Amy would have to be cautious around Alastor. Her career - and possibly her future - was in his hands now. 

So long as she was careful, she could still turn this around...unless he already had a wedding date in mind.

The thought alone made Amylie groan aloud and start to sink into the water. 

Ugh, God above, she prayed Alastor didn’t have a date set yet - although given his current streak of surprising her at every corner now, she wouldn’t put it past him.

“I just need to wash up and go to…”

A sudden noise caught the fallen angel’s attention. She stopped, pausing to listen.

There was a distant sound of shaking metal above her head, which steadily grew closer and closer, until her showerhead began to tremble like there was an earthquake in her bathroom.

Amylie was about to jump out when the showerhead suddenly popped right off, followed by a dark mass that was literally _squeezing itself_ through the small pipehole. It slid right out, causing a putrid mess of grime and muc to downpour upon an unprepared Amy. 

She shrieked and shielded her face, just when the showerhead and whatever had followed behind it both fell right in her lap - and the last was very heavy.

She looked - now sitting in a tub full of filth - at just what in the hell had just squeezed through her shower and was shocked to discover a giant eye looking right back at her.

It was a small creature covered head to toe in the same smelly grime that had just rained down on Amy, seated on her lap and staring back at her with a curious expression. 

Amy was so shocked she didn’t even notice the many dead insects that were now floating in the tub.

Then, suddenly, the one eyed creature gave a smile and wave, holding what appeared to be a feather duster in her other hand. 

“Oh, you must be a new guest!” she greeted, quite chipperly. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Niffty! What’s your name?”

“...”

“...”

And just like that -

**_“AAAAAHHHHHH!!”_ **

Amylie was out of that bathroom in a hop, skip and a jump. Wearing nothing but a robe, she dashed hysterically out of her own suit, almost tripping into the wall across from her room when her wet feet made contact with the wooden floor of the hallway as she ran out.

Her cries of fear echoed through the hollow halls of the hotel, turning two corners before she finally collided into something.

Or, rather, some _one._

“Darling!” said Alastor, taking a hold of Amylie’s shoulders and holding her trembling body in his hands. He sounded surprised to run into her just now. 

“Whatever is the matter?” he then paused a moment to look her over, seeing that she was drenched with something repulsive. A brow cocked on his face as he gave a subdued look of disgust. 

He covered his nose. “And what in the nine unholy circles are you _covered_ in?”

But she was hysterical. “Something - a person - she just - m-my shower - _she fell out of my shower!_ ”

Alastor’s confused expression lingered, until his ears flickered. “Oh! You must have finally met Niffty!”

“Who?!”

“Our maid! She’s been under the floors all day clearing out the vermin!”

“She _fell_ out of my shower head, Alastor!”

“Yes, I can tell. You reek worse than Husker after a night of binge drinking.” He chuckled, although she didn’t reciprocate.

A scowl narrowed its way onto Amylie’s dirty face, pursing her lips into a tight line in the process. She put one hand on her hip, which Alastor raised a brow at.

“Ah, not in the mood, I see.” 

Alastor might not have been very knowledgeable in the field of women, but he was smart enough to know that when they gave that look and put a hand on their hip, they meant business.

“Worry not, my dear. You’re welcomed to use my bathroom to clean yourself up.” He obliged, offering an arm out to her.

Amylie hesitated for a moment, a blush rushing to her cheeks at the thought of using a stranger’s bathroom - especially a man’s.

She could already hear her mother in her head lecturing her for even considering accepting the offer.

But then she sighed, relaxing her arm back at her side and taking Alastor’s. “As long as you promise nothing’s going to pop out of your showerhead when I’m not looking.”

“I assure you, darling, I make sure to keep my quarters pest-free!” 

He managed to get a giggle out of Amylie with that one.

* * *

Alastor’s room was like a blast to the past to Amylie. Once he opened his door, she felt she had stepped decades back of a time more familiar to her. His room was that of a 1920’s bachelor pad, possibly one of the biggest rooms in the hotel. 

It even seemed bigger than her room back at the casino.

She wasn’t surprised at how organized everything was; each piece of furniture and decor wasn’t even a hair out of place. 

Even the smell of his room reminded Amylie of the 20’s.

But she was in a hurry to leave his room. Alastor gladly gave her privacy, closing the door to his bathroom so she could clean herself up (again) in peace.

Within a few minutes, Amylie was finally all cleaned up, placing her robe back on and drying her hair off with a towel Alastor left for her on his sink.

Steam poured out from the bathroom as she exited out, taking only two steps before a hand moved from the corner of her eye, moving out and holding her nightgown out for her. 

Amylie turned and there he was with his smile. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of grabbing your gown. Niffty is still fixing your bathroom, shouldn’t take her very long now.” 

“Oh...um, thank you.” 

“And she sends her regard for the shower mishap.” He added. “She was so caught up in pursuing those vermin she didn’t think to check before squeezing herself through your pipes.”

“Well, it was certainly an interesting way of meeting someone new, that’s for sure. Is there anyone else I haven’t met yet who’s going to pop out and surprise me like she did?” she asked as Alastor handed her her gown.

“Lucky for you, Niffty was the last.” He assured, bowing his head courteously. “I told you the staff was small. They seem to quite like you so far.”

“That’s reassuring. I thought their stunned silence meant otherwise...”

She hoped he wasn’t sparing her feelings, but the doubt still lingered in her reply.

“Oh, I had the same reaction when I first arrived!” he beamed. “Lucky for you, grouchy old Vagatha didn’t stick a spear in your face.”

Amy’s eyes widened at that. “She did what? But why?”

“Remember when I said my reputation tends to proceed me at times? Well, that was why.” Then Alastor gave a shrug. “Although I couldn’t quite hold it against her. I _do_ admire tenacity. And besides, I wasn’t _exactly_ the hotel’s co-manager during those few minutes, so I happily let it go.”

Amylie made a slight face when he wasn’t looking, hinging on the last part. 

_That doesn’t sound quite ‘happily’._

She jolted when he spun around, beaming down with that ear-to-ear grin of his.

“So, tell me, my darling, what do you think of your new staff members so far?”

She blinked. God, it was going to take time for her to get used to his mood shifts like that. 

“They seem quite...nice,” Amy answered, averting her eyes to the side. 

“That’s an honest answer, I hope.”

“It is -” she stopped when she looked back, finding Alastor was suddenly much closer than he was just a moment ago. 

Amy froze up, caught in his crimson red gaze. 

She leaned away slightly when he slowly loomed in with his hands folded behind his back, that smile shifting into a wide, confident smirk.

A gulp lingered in her throat, but she stifled it. “I-Is there something wrong?” 

“No,” he assured, “I’m more...curious, about your answer.”

Her head tilted in question at that.

“Here you are, an angel in hell surrounded by a bunch of demons and sinners from different walks of life...and you honestly think they’re nice?” Alastor laughed and shook his head, moving back and giving her some space.

He went over to a wall to adjust a painting of a grazing deer that was slightly out of place.

“You don’t?” she asked, now filled with her own curiosity about him.

“There are _many_ words I could use to describe my staff, and ‘nice’ is certainly not one of them. Charlie is close, but even she has a set of nasty claws that tend to contradict the friendly demeanor she works hard to set for the others.”

Alastor glanced at her. “I’m sure your answer will change after a week or two. Or possibly tomorrow, for all I know!” he laughed, rather proud of that last-minute zinger.

Yet once again, Amylie didn’t join in the laughter.

She couldn’t hold in a frown, clinging her gown close to her chest as she turned away with a melancholy expression. 

Alastor caught just a glimpse of it, from her reflection in the glass of his framed portrait. He paused a moment before fully turning to look at her, his arms once again folding behind his back.

“...Although I can assure you,” he said, walking back over to her with a genuinely reassuring smile, “you’ll find them much more compatible than the other staff members back at your casino.” 

Amy, noticing what he was doing, actually returned the smile in kind. It helped her relax a bit more.

Then he nodded back to his bathroom. “I’ll give you a moment to change. I’m sure there’s much you wish to discuss after tonight.”

Amylie obliged, returning to the bathroom so she could change into her silk nightgown. She tied the loose laces around her waist to make it snug before exiting out.

Upon re-entering his room, she found Alastor had brought out two wine glasses and a bottle for them to share. Humming a cheery tune, he placed them on his nightstand, waving his hand and summoning the sofa that was at the opposite end of the room to him. 

He took a seat, and then patted the other end down for her as he started pouring their wine.

Amylie accepted the offer, sitting at the other end of the sofa.

She maintained a very noticeable gap from him. Her hands were folded on her lap, apprehensive to invade his space even a little. 

Yet Alastor seemed to pay no mind as he offered Amylie a glass.

“I hope offering an angel a glass of alcohol isn’t considered rude,” he said, to which she shook her head.

“N-No, it’s alright.” Amylie accepted the glass with a tense hand. “Although, I’m not very good at handling alcohol. I’m sure I’ll be drowsy after a few sips.”

“Take your time, darling,” Alastor assured, taking his own glass, “we’re in no rush.”

He paused a moment, bringing the rim of his glass to his nose to smell the scent of the wine. His smile widened in satisfaction, and finally a sip followed. 

Amylie, wanting to be polite, took just a small sip. The taste was bitter, biting her tongue the moment it made contact. She resisted the urge to make a face, swallowing the rough liquid down with a very loud gulp.

Alastor had watched, the butt of his wine glass seated comfortably on top of his lap. 

“Like it?” he inquired.

“It’s very,” Amy swallowed, wiping her lips, “very... _strong._ ” 

Alastor chuckled at that. “You can be honest, dear. If it’s not to your liking, you don’t have to force yourself to drink.”

He took another sip, swallowing the bitter liquid down with ease.

“I would offer you something sweeter and more gentle on the pallet, but I’m afraid Charlie keeps all the sweet stuff under lock and key so Angel doesn’t steal more than his fair share.”

“It’s quite alright,” Amy assured, giving a tiny smile, “I don’t mind.”

“Quite compliant, I see.” He said, leaning on the armchair so he could cross his legs comfortably, “I admire that.”

Amy paused, taking a tiny sip before asking, “You...mentioned we had much to discuss?”

“Ah, yes. That we do. But first,” he smiled, snapping his fingers and turning on the record player across the room.

It played a relaxing melody, one that Amylie remembered hearing once back when she was alive. 

“Just a little music to lighten the atmosphere,” Alastor added, and then proceeded to business, “Now, I’m sure you have questions?” he asked, raising a brow slightly.

Amy nodded.

“Then ask away,”

She went to speak, until Alastor suddenly raised a claw to stop her.

“But do bare in mind that I can only answer so many at a time, so I hope you’ve had time to think of what you wish to ask while you still can tonight.”

She blinked at that. “O-Oh...I suppose that does make sense. Then may I ask...three?”

“Hmm...fair enough,” he shrugged, somewhat in a rather lighthearted way, before smiling and giving Amylie his attention. “Ask away.”

Amylie was a fountain of questions. The things she wished to ask were limitless. She had been curious to know about this man the moment he approached her back at the casino. 

She stared into the wine in her glass, trying to pick the best question to begin with.

...Then, after a few moments, Amylie decided to open with the one question that had been weighing on her mind:

“Have you decided on our wedding date yet?”

Her question actually caught Alastor off guard, who was in mid-sip of his drink when he jolted. 

His ears jerked up in surprise and he turned his head away to cough out the wine he’d choked on.

Amylie sat in utter bewilderment at his reaction.

“I’m-I’m flattered you think I thought that far ahead,” he answered, clearing his throat, “but I’m afraid not.” Then Alastor glanced at her. “I hope you weren’t expecting -”

“Oh, no, no,” she replied, shaking her head. “I was just curious...and to be honest, I’m quite surprised.”

Alastor tilted his head in intrigue at that.

“Back at the casino, you seemed like you had everything planned out. From meeting me, asking me to marry you, and even dealing with my manager. I just sort of thought that, maybe, you would have the wedding date in mind as well.”

“To be frank, dearest, the chances of you even accepting my offer was fifty-fifty. I didn’t want to get too far ahead of myself should you refuse the proposition.”

Amy couldn’t deny she felt relieved now, knowing not everything about their ‘marriage’ was set in stone yet. She was also surprised to see him admit he didn’t think that far ahead in this at all.

Possibly to avoid getting his hopes up, she wondered to herself.

At least there was no pressure to...try and get to know him now. 

_One down, two more to go…_

Amylie pondered on her next question. She traced the rim of her wine glass with her finger ever so slowly, feeling Alastor’s eyes watch her.

“...Might _I_ ask you something?” he inquired then, getting her attention.

Amy nodded in kind, which made Alastor’s smile widen a touch more.

“You mentioned you grew up in the twenties,” he started, “if it’s not too impolite...may I ask what year you - to put it bluntly - kicked the bucket, darling?” 

She had to stop and think for a moment. It had been so long since she last thought about her last moments in the living world….

“Hmm...if I remember correctly, it was the year 1933.” 

She saw his ears flicker in delight at that.

“Is that so? Well, what a coincidence!” he beamed. “As did I!”

He leaned in at the drop of a hat, surprising Amylie with a sudden burst of excitement.

“You know, I just knew there was something about you! Born and bred in the roaring twenties, passing in the early thirties - and luckily for us, it seems everything went right downhill after that decade!”

“Y-Yes, I heard quite a lot of things changed between the thirties and forties.” She said. “But I’ve been out of the loop for some time now.”

“Trust me, my dear,” Alastor assured, sounding rather bitter now as he eased back and resumed enjoying his wine, “you’re not missing out on anything special. Let’s just say I’ve remained out of the loop by choice.” 

This slight derail helped Amylie think of a new question to ask.

“So...this hotel is meant to be a place to rehabilitate sinners,”

Alastor tried not to snort in amusement. “Correct,”

“How many demons have been converted so far?”

“...”

A pause.

A very, very, very long pause.

Alastor wasn’t even looking her way anymore. His gaze was into the wine now, motioning his wrist ever so slightly to make the liquid twirl along the inside of the glass.

He seemed to be...debating with his answer.

“...Would you like an honest answer?” he asked then, looking at her.

Amy didn’t like that reply one bit. And Alastor’s tone alone was a dead giveaway. 

He didn’t sound unsure or condescending in the slightest. Rather aware of the lie he _could_ tell her, should Amylie want that.

Amy blinked at him. “Can...Can I guess how many?” she offered.

To which he nodded, taking a sip of his drink. This should be amusing. 

“Five?”

“Ha!” he laughed, “try lower, dear!”

“Four.”

“Mm, nope. Lower.”

“Um...three?”

_“Lower~!”_

“Two?”

“You’re still thinking too high, darling. Try smaller.”

“One.”

“Final answer?”

“...Yes?”

He grinned, rather smugly at her as he leaned in. “I’m afraid you’re still one number too high, sweetheart. The correct answer you were looking for was: none. Not a single demon.”

Amylie met his eyes, quiet now. She studied the look on his face, noticing that he seemed neither disappointed or embarrassed about this revelation.

In fact...he seemed positively _entertained_ by it.

“But…” Amy tried to make sense of it, “But I thought-”

“That demons and sinners alike were just going to line up out these doors begging on their knees for the chance to change their ways and mend the wrongs they’ve done?” 

Alastor chuckled then, shaking his head and going in for another sip of his drink.

“I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that, my dear. We forsaken souls down here tossed redemption out of our deck of cards a very, very long time ago. Much to sweet Charlotte’s dismay, naturally.”

“What about the others here? Vaggie, Angel, that grouchy, smelly cat and Niffty?”

“Vagatha and Charlie are an item,” Alastor explained. “She’s going to support her significant other no matter how nutty her ideas are. Mr. Dust was on a one-way ticket to getting evicted before they scooped him up and gave him a home free of charge. And Husker and Niffty are here because of yours truly.”

He grinned proudly as he said this last part.

“Life’s a cinch when you have friends that owe you more than a couple of favors.” 

“And you’re here, because…?” she asked.

Alastor paused a moment, his smile oozing with that smugness again.

“I have my reasons,” he replied, not batting an eye at Amylie. “And who knows - maybe business will finally start booming with you here now!”

She turned away when he said that; once again, he was making something quite complicated sound like a breeze.

“I feel like you’re putting too much faith in me…”

He tilted his head a bit. “You’re still sore about your last performance before now, I see.”

“‘Sore’ is putting it mildly. It was utterly humiliating being rejected like that. Just because I sang something I wanted for once…” 

She let out a heavy sigh, finally setting her untouched glass of wine on the nightstand before them. 

“And if anyone can’t handle rejection well, it’s Amon. I can’t even imagine what he must be plotting to stick it to me for leaving him like that.” 

Alastor’s expression softened, only a little, as he let out an amused snort.

“He’s probably too busy icing his wrist to even spare a thought about you right now.” 

“You don’t know him like I do. He’ll be quiet for now, but it will only be for a matter of time.”

“Forgive my skepticism, darling, but if you ask me that man was all hat and no cattle. If I had a penny for how many times he threatened to shoot me, I wouldn’t have to work anymore!”

“But he still shot you,” she reminded. “Well, _almost._ But that’s beside the point. Amon does talk a big game more than he should, but he never goes back on a threat. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s remained very consistent in that regard.”

“My dear. Need I remind you…”

Amylie caught a soft red glow from the side of her eye. Following it, she turned and found Alastor presenting the engagement ring to her in the palm of his hand. 

She looked up, meeting his gaze as he said:

“You’re my fiancée now. I don’t intend to stand idly by and let some conman snatch you back into his clutches.”

“...” At last, Amylie finally let out a smile. A true one this time. “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten about that one bit.” 

Alastor opened his other hand to her, and Amylie placed her left in it so that he could slip the ring back onto the safety of her finger.

“Although, I must be honest, dear,” he said, “I do wish you’d at least waited until _after_ I had snapped his wrist to intervene.”

And it was at that moment Amylie was suddenly reminded that she was now engaged to an Overlord. 

She tried not to linger too much on his comment.

“I assure you, Amon had called me much worse things before then. If it’s one thing I learned as an angel, it was knowing how to turn the other cheek.”

“And that helped?”

“Well, I had to scream into a pillow afterwards, but aside from that - yes, for the most part.” 

Alastor laughed softly at that. “Come now, you almost make it sound like the bastard didn’t have it coming.”

He took one more long sip, finishing off his wine. “I’m rather surprised you didn’t try and leave sooner...but then again,” Alastor turned to her, “I’m sure you’re more than attuned to the virtue of patients, being an angel and all.” 

Amy snorted at that. “It wasn’t without difficulty at times. But that’s all in the past now,” she gave Alastor a smile, “I know it sounds odd of me to say, being in hell and all, but I really do want to keep an open mind during my stay here.”

“Trying to remain positive, are you?”

“ _Trying,_ ” she elaborated, “key word, there.”

The two shared a laugh together at that. Though it was brief, it was still genuine. The gap that had resided between Alastor and Amylie - while not by much - had lessened some since they’d first sat down. 

Amy cleared her throat after a moment, tucking a damp lock of hair behind her ear as she stood. “Well, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time tonight. I’m certain my bathroom’s right as rain again, so I’ll just see myself out.”

Alastor gladly set his glass down, acting courteously. “At least let me see you out,” he offered.

Amylie accepted, walking with Alastor to his door.

Like a gentleman, he opened it for her.

“We can make these late-night chats routine, if you’d like?” he suggested. 

“Really?”

“I don’t see why not, seeing as the two of us are living under the same roof together. And I’m sure the questions you’ve asked me tonight were only the tip of the iceberg of the things you’re curious about.”

“You do have a point…” but then Amylie stopped, turning to Alastor with a strange look in her eyes. 

He was able to read them quite clearly.

“Have another one in mind, do you? Well, ask away. I’m all ears!...No pun intended.”

“...There is one other thing I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she began, turning to him fully and meeting his eyes. “But I’ve been reluctant.”

“Hmm?”

“My song…” Amylie slowly put her hands to her chest, “the one I sang the first night you were at the casino...my song, did you…” she flushed in embarrassment now, hating how this question was going to make her sound.

The last thing she ever wanted to come across was vain. Amy had met more than a fair share of singers and performers in Sinner’s Eden that wanted to hear nothing but endless praise for their craft and she could never stand any of them.

Even her ghost writers were offended when she dared to point out a flaw in a verse or a lyric. 

_‘Just sing and look pretty while you do, that’s all you got to worry about,’_ is what Amon would say, who never spared a moment to look over the music she was supposed to sing. 

She swallowed, finally spitting out the question:

“Did you...really mean all those things you said about my song?”

Alastor paused, which made her nervous.

“I-I don’t doubt you were being sincere back there, but-but if there’s anything you think I need to improve on, I promise I’ll -”

“My dear,” he laughed, stopping her by placing a hand on her head like one would a child, “of course I did. I applauded it, didn’t I?”

Amylie was quiet for a heartbeat, caught off guard by his gesture. “Y-Yes...you did.” 

“Then there’s your answer.” He beamed. “I assure you, the only grievances I had were in regards to the trash you were made to perform. Although I’m sure your audience there would heavily disagree with me.” 

He removed his hand then, putting it behind his back. “Now, I think it’s time you and I retired for the night. You have a big day tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning, Amylie.”

She nodded, her blush still over her face as she turned and left his room.

He watched her go, waiting until she turned down the hall leading to her room to let his smile widen.

Closing his door behind him with a wave of his hand, Alastor went over to the table to take her glass of untouched wine. 

Waste not, want not.

He took a sip, grinning in satisfaction. “Quite an entertaining little thing you’ve proven to be thus far, little bird.” He said aloud, taking his seat back on his couch and crossing his legs comfortably.

Alastor had to admit, he’d really outdone himself this time. 

He’d crossed into new territory with this idea. And he thought becoming the co-manager of a run-down hotel was going to prove to be a challenge.

This was another level. 

He would even dare admit he was _actually_ doubtful she’d accept. 

Though, in truth, Alastor was rather rushed this time around. He’d been waiting for an opportunity to get Amylie alone since the night he heard her perform. 

He was lucky he always remembered to bring that ring every night, otherwise his proposal would have seemed highly suspicious.

Regardless, Alastor was just glad he snatched her up while he still could. 

Now she was bound to him; not by law yet...but surely that would come later down the road. 

Alastor took another drink from the glass, sighing lightly after.

Yet again, he found himself pondering…

Pondering upon this strange stir of emotions coursing through him. 

It was strange; Alastor couldn’t recall a time before now where he’d found himself wanting a form of companionship, neither platonic or romantic. 

But there was something so peculiar about that woman. He needed to know why. 

Needed her _here_ so that he could understand personally.

Needed her _bound_ to him in some way possible so that he wouldn’t have to worry about someone else coming along and snatching her up before he could.

Now she owed him. Yet another favor Alastor could add to his list of ‘reminders to cash in when needed’. 

Alastor also couldn’t deny how absolutely entertaining it was being the fiancé of an angel. Fallen or not, he was certain once word would get out about it his associates would be green with envy at him. 

How he’d successfully stolen one of the divine’s most dutiful servants and corrupted her into _his_ image.

Alastor had to laugh, running a hand down his face as his smug grin seemed to reach ear-to-ear now. 

“Oh, Amylie, my sweet little songbird...I have a feeling you’re going to keep me entertained for quite some time.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the original Hazbin Hotel characters belong to Vivziepop. And yes, this is an OCXCanon story

A New Day, A New Me

_Despite the incident on Channel 666 News, Charlie had no intention of delaying the hotel’s grand opening. Niffty made sure to get the place as clean as possible for potential patrons to arrive._

_Thanks to Alastor advertising the hotel the night before on his late-night radio broadcast - adding in that the first drinks for every guest was free - many curious sinners and demons stopped by to scope the place out._

_Charlie, Alastor and the other staff members all dressed their best to look nice for their company._

_Only a handful of people stopped by, some interested in the free round of alcohol, some intrigued to meet hell’s favorite pornstar Angel Dust, and then there were the ones that simply stopped by because of Alastor._

_Charlie, after meeting and greeting all her guests, went searching for Alastor._

_Sure enough, he was surrounded by the same group of female demons that had come in together as a unit. They made it apparent that they only arrived at the request of the deer demon._

_Since the moment they walked in, these women latched onto him like bees to honey._

_Charlie couldn’t help but take this time to observe._

_It had only been a few days since Alastor had first arrived at the hotel with the proposition to co-manage it with her, and during that time between then and preparing for tonight’s celebration she didn’t have a moment's peace to have alone with him._

_Although the two had been exchanging ideas to help improve the hotel left and right together, she knew absolutely nothing about her now co-manager aside from all the morbid tales related to his rise to becoming an Overlord._

_She had hoped to use this opportunity to learn more about him; at least, if the women he was surrounded by permitted it._

_Just when Charlie considered giving up and migrating back to the rest of the guests, that was when Alastor’s gaze drifted past the group surrounding him._

_One of his ears flickered upon meeting the princess’ gaze and he kindly excused himself. Though the women were disappointed, even insistent that he stay and chat a little longer, he still promised he’d return in due time and made his way towards Charlie with that unbent smile upon his face._

_“Sorry if I interrupted,” she apologized, nodding towards the far away group of disappointed flock of ladies._

_Alastor shook his head. “Quite alright, dear. I see those lovely ladies on a daily basis. I’m sure they can bear to part from me for a little while.”_

_Charlie happened to look over at them again - and she was met with a pack of curled lips and deathly glares pointed right at her._

_If looks could kill, she would have been dead moments ago._

_Alastor had looked over as well. Unlike Charlie, he gave a hearty chuckle._

_“Although, that doesn’t mean they won’t be a little sore about it.”_

_Charlie gulped with a nervous smile and nod. “No kidding…”_

_“So, how are the other guests fairing this night?” he inquired, glancing at the many new faces lounging about in their lobby. “Any potential clients yet?”_

_“Well…” Charlie gave an uncertain look for a moment before giving a tiny smile. “Not just yet.”_

_Alastor hummed in reply, yet he didn’t seem surprised in the slightest._

_“But even if we don’t get any takers by tonight, we at least got more word out there about the hotel!” the princess said, returning to her chipper self. “That’s all that matters!”_

_Now he laughed. “My, you’re certainly a ‘glass half full’ person, aren’t you, my dear?”_

_Alastor snatched two glasses of champagne off a serving tray being carried around by one of Charlie’s little servant demons - “Razzle”, he believed he was called._

_Then he politely offered one of them to her, which she accepted._

_“I try,” she admitted. “But it’s not always easy...what about you, Al?”_

_Alastor was in mid-sip when she suddenly asked that. “Hmm?”_

_“Would you consider yourself a ‘glass half full’ person too?”_

_Now that question quite intrigued the Radio Demon, as he pondered on it for a few moments. “You know, I’ve never really thought about it before. Though if I had to be honest...half full!”_

_Charlie smiled. “That’s good -”_

_“I wouldn’t be sticking around here if I felt this project of yours was a complete waste of my time.” He added then, his smile oozing with his own special type of smugness that Charlie had come to dislike ever since he first walked through the front door._

_“So I suppose that fits me right up there with you in the half full category.”_

_She made a face at that. “Right. I remember. You made your feelings about redemption crystal clear your first day here.”_

_“Ah, glad to know!”_

_He strolled over to an open window and Charlie followed. Despite his combative attitude, she was still determined to know more about Alastor._

_For her to say it was strictly out of business obligation would have been a lie. Alastor had such an intriguing charisma about him that it made one wonder just what kind of person he really was._

_And Charlie was more than determined to discover the man behind the smile._

_“So,” Charlie began, “say you did find the hotel to be a total waste of your time...would you have just moved right along without a second thought?”_

_“Most certainly,” replied Alastor, nonchalantly. “I make it apparent not to reach my hand out in assistance to people who are more than surely doomed to drown in the sea of their own doings.”_

_He stood with that champagne glass still in his hand, observing from the side like a forgotten shadow in the room. That Cheshire smile of his widened a little as he turned to Charlie with a glint in his eye._

_“Consider yourself lucky that you and those sorry couple of misfits you found are so intriguing.”_

_She gave him a tamed scowl. “Please, don’t call Angel and Vaggie misfits. I wouldn’t have gotten as far as I have so far without them, you know.”_

_He raised a sarcastic brow back at her. “Yes, I’m sure - just as I’m sure you three were doing so well by yourselves before I came along.”_

_He laughed again, in spite of Charlie’s very obvious scowl. If it was one thing Charlie had come to learn about Alastor was that he loved irking people on and getting under their skin._

_With that scowl, she took a sip of her drink. She was going to need some alcohol if she was to get through this converation._

_“...Although,” he said after a moment, “I am quite glad you three came along when you did.”_

_That caught Charlie’s attention._

_“Contrary to popular belief, my dear, I wasn’t lying before when I said that my work was becoming mundane. Why, even my beloved late-night radio broadcasts felt like a droll. Do you know what it’s like being a radio host with nothing to talk about? It’s enough to drive someone like myself mad...again! I was lucky if there was talk of a turf war buzzing about, at least then I’d have words worth sharing to the general public!”_

_The princess raised her brow at that. Although she was anything but familiar in the field of radio broadcasting, she didn’t want to come off as callus._

_Especially since this was the most honest Alastor had sounded since the start of their partnership._

_“I, um...suppose.” It prompted her to ask, “I would have thought a guy like you wouldn’t get bored all that easily?”_

_“Yes, well…I’ve been told I’m a man of many surprises,” he replied, taking another sip of his champagne to distract himself._

_“But you’re an Overlord, right? I thought you guys had plenty of stuff to do on your off time. The V’s definitely do.”_

_“_ _I do. But boredom tends to stretch the days together. Makes it hard to enjoy the perks of eternity in the afterlife, you see.”_

_Alastor, with a tense smile, leaned in closer to the princess. He captured her in his piercing red gaze, freezing her feet to the spot as he rumbled, with a hint of static in the background:_

_“And I am not a man who functions well under the thumb of boredom.”_

_Charlie could feel a lump in her throat. She swallowed it quietly, relieved when he pulled away and relaxed his grin as he distracted himself with his drink._

_God, she hated when he did that; she couldn’t tell if that was a subliminal threat or a warning. At this rate, he was going to give her emotional whiplash._

_“I can...imagine,” she said, apprehensively filling the tense void he’d left._

_“Can you?” he inquired, his stare fixated on the party. “Living day by day, exactly like the last…”_

_Charlie stared at him, but Alastor did not meet it. Just thinking about such a dull life caused his mind to spiral. His smile looked tight, even grimacing._

_“That’s a punishment worse than death.”_

* * *

Amylie awoke to the sound of her curtains being drawn, the early morning sun pouring into her room. And before she could even open her eyes, she was greeted with a loud:

“Good morning, my dear!”

Amy, groggily, sat up. She looked forward, but her eyes were still half closed. Not that she could see anything, under her messy nest of hair. 

She barely got a yawn out before Alastor was assaulting her senses with his loud, overly-cheery voice.

“Sleep well, darling? I do hope the bed was to your liking?” he grinned, with those long arms of his folded so neatly behind his back.

It seemed to widen when she slowly turned to look at him, but she didn’t reply.

“You _are_ awake, aren’t you?” 

“More or less,” she answered, rubbing an eye. “Honestly, how in the world can you sleep with all that awful noise going on out there?”

Alastor tilted his head curiously. “Noise?”

“You know, all those sirens, the gun fire, car horns sounding off every other minute - I think I even heard an explosion.”

“Ah, the lovely sounds of uncontrollable chaos.” Alastor praised, rather fondly. “Worry not, my darling. You’ll grow accustomed to it after some time!”

She made a very doubtful face. The casino had its fair share of loud nights, especially the weekends when business boomed the most, but she much preferred those noises over all the hectic chaos surrounding the hotel at night. 

“Come,” Alastor obliged, “join me for a quick morning dine, won’t you?”

Before Amylie could ask just what he meant, he slowly lowered his raised arm and revealed a tiny table meant for two sitting at one of the many gaps in her new room. 

Amy was wide awake now, staring with her mouth almost agape at the plates of fresh food and empty glasses displayed just for them. 

On one end there was a plate of sunny-side up eggs on toasted bread, with a complimentary bowl of apples and grapes on the side. Then at the other end was just a lonely coffee mug, where Alastor took his seat at.

She slowly stood, approaching the table with an enchanted gleam in her pale blue eyes. 

“Wow,” Amy smiled. She hovered a hand over the food and felt the heat steaming from the eggs. She turned to him with a delighted glint in her eye. “That’s an amazing trick. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

Her enthusiasm naturally inflated Alastor’s ego; it was written all over the smirk on his face. 

“You’ll see more than that in time, dear. Have a seat, while it’s still hot.”

Amylie sat across from him. She took the fork and was a moment away from taking a bite into her fruit bowl when she noticed that Alastor had summoned a pot of hot coffee for himself, filling his mug but adding nothing more at his end of the table.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked, then placing a slice of fruit in her mouth. 

After all these decades, Amylie always made sure to maintain good table manners. 

Alastor shook his head lightly. “My diet is a tad more...peculiar. But worry not, darling. A couple cups of coffee is all I need to start the day.” 

Amylie blew on her steaming egg-on-toast before taking a small bite. Any doubts she had about the food being fake went right out the door after that first bite. 

“It’s delicious,” she smiled. “Much better than anything I ate back at Sinner’s Eden.”

“I’m glad to hear,” Alastor replied, and then nodded to her empty glass. “What do you usually drink in the morning, darling? Just name it.”

“Just some warm tea -”

With just the snap of his fingers, Alastor transformed her glass into a tea cup. Filled just under the brim with fresh warm tea. 

Once again, her eyes sparkled in sheer wonder at him.

“How can you do that?” she asked, excited now. 

Alastor sipped from his coffee. “To put it short: talent.” He said, giving a smirk. “But I’m afraid my long answer is rather complicated. Let’s just say taking things from one place and dropping them in another is a little trick I learned from my time here.”

“Can you make anything appear out of thin air?”

“Just about. Although I think it’s far too early for us to commence our game of three questions, don’t you think?”

“Oh, come on now,” Amy giggled, “you can’t blame me for being a little curious. You’re a man full of surprises, after all.”

“Well, people do say that surprises keep a relationship alive.” Alastor mused. 

That made her giggle again. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls you spontaneously propose to.” 

His smile widened. She was plucky, much to his surprise; through his very brief encounters with angels during the annual purges, they came off as highly straightforward and boringly precise. 

No two Exterminators seemed different than the other.

Granted, Amylie was a fallen angel...which made her more intriguing than her heavenly associates upstairs, this he knew. 

He watched as she ate politely: chewing with her mouth closed and her elbows nowhere near the table, even sitting in a relaxed yet modest position. 

She was from his decade alright. He could see it from just her table manners alone. He had a knack for spotting women from the same time as him down here. Such as little gestures when they spoke to him, or the way they danced, held cigarettes or even using a familiar lingo or two that he could hear a mile away. 

“I must admit...I’m not used to this sort of treatment.” She confessed, pulling Alastor from his thoughts.

“Hmm?” he replied, tilting his head in curiosity. “You mean the food? I know it’s not the most high-class meal, but -”

“No, no,” Amy assured, kindly, “the food’s delicious. I...I mean…”

Alastor’s brow raised when he noticed her hesitance to finish. She turned her face away slightly, resembling that of a bashful school girl now. He even noticed the light glow of a blush darkening along her cheeks.

“I mean, being served breakfast and sharing it with someone. It’s...no one has ever done something like this for me before.”

“You’re an honored guest, darling.” Alastor told her. “Your satisfaction is our priority. Not to mention the fact that you’re part of the crew now, and we’ve been dying for a new face around here. I’m almost surprised to hear you didn’t receive the same back at your old job.”

Amy had to pause a moment; it was still surreal to consider the casino her ‘old job’ after so long.

She took a long sip from her tea. “Amon wasn’t as thoughtful, I’m afraid. ‘Guests come before the crew,’ he’d say. Except for the casino. That was the one thing that came before the guests.”

“ _Before_ the guests?”

“There was a incredibly small list of rules all the guests were to follow if they wanted to ever set foot in Sinner’s Eden again,” Amylie explained, “and at the very top of it was to never - and I mean never _ever_ \- let Amon or one of his little secret spies catch you talking bad about the casino. If it’s one thing he hated, it was people talking bad about his work behind his back.”

Alastor hummed lowly at that, making note of it.

“Those cameras he has placed around make it easier for him to eavesdrop on conversations among patrons. He prides himself on his _‘robust management skills’_ ,” she couldn’t withhold the light mockery in her voice, “yet he’ll ban a person for so much as making fun of the casino’s interior decorating.”

“That’s happened more than a few times, I presume?”

“You presume correctly,” Amylie sighed then, shaking her head as she went for another sip of her tea. 

Then, much to Alastor’s surprise, she suddenly apologized.

“Forgive me. Here we are, sharing a lovely breakfast together, and I can’t stop raving about that place.” She snorted and shook her head at herself. “You must think I’m very one-note by now.”

But Alastor shook his head at that. “Dear, if I thought you were even remotely dull, neither of us would be dining together right now, I assure you.”

That brought the smile back to her face. She even giggled a little. “Are you always charming like this, or is this just because I’m an ‘honored guest’?”

His smile widened into a smirk, as he went in for a sip of his coffee, and gave the angel a simple wink. “Now where’s the fun in telling you?” 

She laughed at that; and he took notice of that all too familiar rhythm all women had whenever they were starting to become smitten. How the laugh was breathy and high-pitched. 

He was a professional at the art of smiting, despite his distaste of flirting. It was a talent he always possessed. It helped keep the... _nosier_ people at bay for a while, back when he was alive. 

After all, it was hard to believe such charming and well-liked man could ever commit a murder.

Or two.

Not that she needed to know that.

The last thing Alastor wanted to do was scare his soon-to-be-bride.

Well...not while he still found her interesting, anyway. 

* * *

After breakfast, Alastor let Amylie get ready before he briefed her for what he had planned for today, as her first day as part of the hotel staff: that she was to find a job well suited to her abilities and contribute to the hotel.

“Everyone here has his or her own specific task,” he explained, escorting her down the stairs with his arm around hers, “mine and Charlie’s is to manage, Vagatha acts as the staff security, Husker manages the front desk and the hotel bar and Niffty is in charge of the cleaning, cooking and the shopping.”

Amy tilted her head a little. “What about that fellow in the pink suit?”

“Hmm? Oh, Mr. Dust? Well…” Alastor’s made a slightly bitter face at just the mere mention of that slutty spider. “We’re still trying to figure that out, I’m afraid.”

...Amylie made a mental note to refrain from mentioning Angel around Alastor.

They arrived downstairs in the lobby area, finding everyone was gathered at the bar. Charlie stood before the others with a clipboard in hand.

She turned just as the two entered, smiling.

“Oh, Al, Amy! Great! Right on time! We were just about to go over today’s schedule!”

Amy moved from Alastor’s side and sat at the bar with everyone else, taking a seat beside Angel, who was sitting with his legs crossed and back propped up against the table.

She felt him glance at her as she sat down, and then caught him snickering.

“So, how’s the life of hotel luxury treatin’ you so far, tootz?” Angel chuckled, clearly being sarcastic as he tried to keep from laughing too loud. “I heard you got one hell of a shower last night.”

Amy firmed her lips at that, trying not to grimace. As if getting sprayed down by filth wasn’t embarrassing enough….

“It was certainly...an experience.” She replied, not looking at the spider’s direction. 

He snickered again, leaning in a little so he could speak at a lower level that only she could hear.

“Really? Not missin’ the high life, Miss _‘Five-Star Casino’?_ ”

Amy, annoyed, narrowed her eyes at that. “Not at all.”

An audible throat clear from Charlie silenced the two, getting their attention back to her and Alastor who stood front and center before the bar. 

“All right, you guys. I know today we were scheduled to do some advertising out on the streets, but we’re pushing that back to tomorrow.” She said. “Instead, we’re going to give Amylie here a proper introduction here! And find a job best suited for her!”

That was when Alastor stepped forward. With just the wave of his hand, he summoned a scroll of paper. He loosened one digit and the scroll unfurled. Down and down it went, until it was on the floor, stopping just at her feet. 

“As a new member of the hotel,” he explained with that casual smile, “there are certain guidelines you must follow!”

He turned the scroll towards him, adjusting his monocle so that he could properly read. 

“The most important ones being that you will under no circumstance engage in behavior that is deemed sinful or otherwise harmful to yourself and others. Such as -”

He started to name off everything written down. 

Amylie reached down and picked up the other end, curious to see what one could possibly do to garner such a long, long list. 

Being an angel, Amy knew a thing or two about sin. Considering she was once a guardian angel, it was her job to know all that there needed to be known in order to guide her assigned soul back onto the right path.

So she wasn’t surprised to find self-destructive vices like excessive use of alcohol, drugs and carnal activities listed on there. Even things like giving into ill-tempers or fighting were prohibited. 

“This is quite a list,” she muttered, her eyes glossing over more and more rules stacked on top of one another. 

“Well, this _is_ hell.” Vaggie elaborated, sitting at the other end of the bar. “We have to discourage as much as we can if we wanna meet the end goal.”

She couldn’t disagree with that notion. “That is a good point.”

But Angel snorted beside her again. “I doubt you’ll have any trouble followin’ the rules, sweetheart. Obeying rules ain’t nothin’ new to your kind.” He teased, shooting her a smug look. “I mean, _you_ personally? Maybe not so much. Since you’re a fallen an’ all.”

He laughed at himself, but Amylie didn’t reciprocate. Now she understood why Alastor wasn’t quite a fan of this Angel Dust character. 

Well, he was more tolerable than Amon, at least...although that wasn’t saying much.

“Angel,” Charlie said, scoldingly. “And this right here brings me to another topic: I expect everyone to treat Amy with the same respect we would show each other. She might not be from hell, but her reasons for being here aren’t any different than ours.” 

“Correct,” Alastor chimed in, as he rolled up his long list. “She is no better than any of you, and you are all no better than her. Like it or not, she is part of the staff now. Should you have any complaints, you’re more than welcomed to speak to Charlie and I about them -”

Angel Dust raised an arm then, which earned another bitter leer from Amylie.

Even Alastor couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at the spider’s childishness.

“...In _private._ ” He finished.

Angel let his hand drop back down, ignoring Amylie’s audible eye roll. 

Charlie tried to return the focus onto her and Alastor. “Until then - Amy, I know you were a singer back at your old job, but is there anything else you think could do to help around the hotel?”

Amylie glanced around, catching more than a few eyes watching her now. She looked down, pondering on that. 

“Um, well…” She moved a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m not really sure.”

Angel chuckled in her ear. “What? Didn’t have time to develop anotha skill with all those schmucks ghost-writin’ all yer songs for ya?”

“Angel,” Charlie scolded again.

Even Alastor scolded him as well. “That’s enough, Mr. Dust.”

“‘Ey, I’m just bein’ honest.” The spider callously shrugged, thumbing towards Amy with one of his many hands. “Gals in her line of work aren’t known for ‘branching out’, if you catch my drift?”

Amy leered at the spider. “I’m afraid I _don’t_ ‘catch your drift’, whatever that means.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groaned, laying the back of his head against the bar table dramatically, “don’t tell me you’re fuckin’ old too. Bad enough we got one old man ‘ere who’s so goddamn stubborn and _refuses_ to get with the times!” 

Alastor’s stare sharpened into a glare, well aware that that comment was a jab at him. He once again adjusted his monocle. 

“Angel, you are not being a very hospitable team player.” 

Yet Angel shrugged again. “I’m just sayin’. Good luck findin’ any job for this broad that ain’t got to do with singin’.”

“I have other skills outside of just that one, you know.” Amy defended, her aggravation with the spider growing by the minute.

“Oh, is that so?” he challenged, giving her a mocking smirk. “I honestly wouldn’t know, since all anyone ever talks about are those singin’ pipes you got.” He was the only one who laughed at his own jab. “I bet you ain’t even as good as they say.”

A scowl darkened on Amylie’s pristine brow. 

He pointed a claw at her, stoking the flames. 

“I bet you’re one of those singers that sound like shit when they ain’t dolled up and behind a microphone.”

Thankfully, Amylie had the patients of a saint, which was a required skill that she’d learned from her days being a guardian angel. She straightened her back and crossed her legs, folding her hands over her knee as she took in a quiet breath to keep herself composed.

“I’m not engaging in this.”

That, however, was an invitation to Angel. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Too high and mighty to prove me wrong because you know I’m right?”

She averted her gaze away from him, waving a dismissive hand. “You’re trying to provoke me and I’m not biting.”

Meanwhile, Vaggie, Husk and Niffty observed this “catfight” with different reactions.

Husk was drowning them out by downing a bottle of booze.

Niffty watched with unbroken attention with an eager smile, possibly anticipating their argument to escalate into something exciting.

Vaggie, on the other hand, put a hand to her temple as she too tried to drown the two out.

“Christ, I feel like I’m back in highschool…” the moth muttered in exhaustion.

Charlie glanced between the bickering demon and angel, looking quite stumped. It wasn’t easy to deescalate Angel once he got started, especially when he was trying to provoke someone else. She knew interfering would only make things worse.

“Amylie,” Alastor said then, getting everyone to look at him.

They watched as he rolled over the piano she had been playing last night to the center of the room. Summoning a stool, he fanned his torn coat tails behind him as he took a seat.

“Since Mr. Dust is so doubtful in your talent, why not prove him wrong?” he gave the fallen angel a smile as he said this, flexing his claws and cracking his knuckles in preparation.

Amy blinked, looking around anxiously for a moment. “N-No. That’s all right.”

Angel’s smirk widened in satisfaction. “See? What’d I tell ya? The broad ain’t nothin’ but an overhyped one-trick pony.”

Amy’s hands tensed into fists on her lap. She kept her head low, biting her lip to withhold the venom she wanted to spit at the porn star. 

Feeling the weight of eyes on her, she looked up to find Alastor was the one staring. Their eyes locked for a moment.

He raised a brow, then. Not in question or curiosity, but as an invitation. An intrigue to put her to the test.

And see her succeed. 

...And Amylie accepted.

Without a word, she stood from the stool and went over to Alastor, the room quieting down as all eyes fell on her. 

Alastor’s smile seemed to broaden when she closed the gap between them.

“What do you know?” she asked.

“Certainly anything you have in mind.” He promised.

Amylie knew exactly what she wanted him to play. She leaned in and whispered it to him.

His red, deer-like ear flickered at the sensation of her gentle voice, but he did not inch it away.

“...Ah,” he grinned, intrigued by her hushed suggestion. “My, my. I’m rather surprised, darling. I didn’t take you for someone who had such exquisite taste. Are you sure you can manage such a challenge?”

Amy turned and faced the others, standing with her shoulders squared and her back straight.

“But of course.” She gave a tiny smirk, which was dripping with a confidence he’d never expected from such a frail little thing such as her. “I used to practise that song so much that I could recite it in my sleep.”

He leveled his hands over the piano.

Everyone exchanged looks at each other, all curious to what the two had planned. 

“Just play the one verse.” Amy told him, flexing and unflexing her diaphragm with her breathing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sang something so physically tasking. “Near the end.”

Alastor nodded, memorizing the melody in his head before playing for a quick second.

Then, faster than a heartbeat, his claws danced across the ivorys in a flurry of harmony and melody. No one could place what he was playing.

The music was reminiscent of something...like the melody of a thousand jingling bells. 

It wasn’t until Amylie finally began to sing that Angel’s, Charlie’s and the other staff member’s attention was finally caught in her hands. 

She began singing just a few moments after Alastor began playing, her voice reaching so high without so much as a crack. Even the rhythm of her voice was that of a thousand dinging bells; masterfully flexing out this splendid aria without so much as a sign of strain.

Amylie put a hand on her chest when she sang out a long note that flowed out beautifully, before letting her voice tip just a few octaves higher...and then finally releasing a loud, piercing crescendo that she held onto and released with a tender grasp just before she was out of breath.

And once she was finished, so was Alastor. 

She put a hand on the piano to steady herself, taking a moment to catch her breath. 

Amy wiped her brow. It had been ages since she sang such high notes before. She must have been getting rusty if the Bell Song wore her out that fast, especially just that small verse. 

Panting, she looked at the others…

They all stared at her, agape. 

Charlie’s arms fell at her sides. “That was...amazing!” she cheered, beaming the brightest smile and rushing over to Amylie, dropping her clipboard without a second thought. 

She took both of the angel’s hands, jumping up and down like a giddy child.

“Where did you learn to sing like that? I never even knew someone could sing that high before! You’ve got to teach me!”

Amy giggled lightly, one hand still on her chest as she watched the princess bob up and down. “I’m just as impressed as you are. I was worried my voice was about to give out in the middle of that last note. I haven’t sung like that in ages.” 

“I must say, I’m quite impressed as well, dear.” Complimented Alastor, folding his hands behind his back as he stood from the piano. “I never would have guessed you for the opera type.”

Amy felt her cheeks redden bashfully and she gave half of a shrug with a smile. “W-Well, it’s a long story, really…” 

But then Charlie gasped. She took Amy’s hand again with a sparkle in her eye as she got an idea:

“That’s it! You can sing a song to help promote the hotel! It’s perfect!”

Amy blinked at that. “Sing a song?”

“You were super popular back at the casino, right? If all your fans in hell heard you singing about what the hotel stands for and about redemption, I’m sure they’d all come pouring in by the dozens!”

Amylie stared at the princess for a moment in bewilderment, but then she glanced up at Alastor, who only reaffirmed the idea with a broad smile of his own. 

The fallen angel paused a moment. She pushed any doubts she had in herself in the back of her mind, knowing this was exactly what she wanted.

A chance for her to stand out from the reputation Amon had made for her and be her own type of singer. 

A singer that wrote and sang her own music about whatever she pleased. 

“I think that’s a perfect idea.” Amy agreed.

“Great!” Charlie said, wrapping her arm around hers. “Come on! I’ll help you write the lyrics! Vaggie, come on! We’re gonna need a second opinion!”

Vaggie smiled and stood up, following the two. “Coming, hun.”

Angel watched the three girls disappear into another room. Charlie was bustling with so much excitement that she echoed in the main lobby.

Even with them gone, his sour look remained. After a moment, he snorted and crossed a set of arms.

“Big deal. So the gal can actually sing. Big fuckin’ whoop.” He griped. “I can sing too.”

“Just let it go, man.” Husk said, going back to his booze. “You called her out and she called your bluff.”

“Yeah, well, I dunno how Charlie expects this place to suddenly get popular just because of one broad.”

“That ‘broad’ is a member of the hotel staff now, Angel Dust.”

Angel turned and found Alastor standing just a few feet from him, addressing the porn star with a very stern look in his red eyes. 

“So I suggest you start getting used to having her around. It’s bad enough we have to accommodate for someone who barely contributes to the hotel, the last thing we need is to preserve that towering ego of yours.”

Angel’s eye twitched slightly hearing that. When Alastor left, he spun around in his seat with an attitude.

“Give me a shot, Husky.” He grumbled. “And make it a strong one.”

“It’s _Husk,_ ” the drunken cat grouchily reminded, grabbing a bottle and a shot glass. “And you better pay your damn tab this week if yer askin’ for the big stuff.” 

He shot Husk a smile. “‘Ey, you know me, Husky-baby. I’m always good for the _big stuff~_ ”

“I swear to fuckin’ christ-!”

* * *

The rest of the day had been devoted to Amylie and Charlie coming up with a promotional song for the hotel. It took quite a bit of brainstorming - and, of course, help from Vaggie and Alastor - but the two girls eventually came up with the perfect song!

It had a catchy beat and described the premise of the hotel perfectly. Even the other staff members had their own short cameos in the song.

Now, Amylie just had to practise. 

Alastor used his powers to summon the piano in Amylie’s room, leaving her for a few hours to memorize the flow of her song and tweak a lyric or two.

She hadn’t stopped practising since the moment she sat down on the stool, becoming lost in her music.

Her fingers danced across the piano keys, her eyes closed as her head motioned to the rhythm of the music. Behind her lips she hummed the lyrics she and Charlie made together, making sure the song and the hymn flowed naturally inside each other. 

_Knock, knock._

The sound of a knocking on her front door caught Amylie’s attention. She stopped playing and looked to the door, just as she heard someone speak on the other end.

“Darling?” called Alastor. “May I come in?”

Amy blinked; it seemed like minutes ago when she’d last heard Alastor.

She quickly looked at the clock on her wall, surprised to find that she had been at it for at least a few hours now. She didn’t even notice the sun had gone down since she started.

Realizing this, Amy called back. “Oh! Yes, come in!”

In strolled Alastor, carrying a tray with a steaming teapot and two empty cups on top. The door closed by itself behind him.

“I do hope you don’t mind me interrupting.” He said as he set the tray on the small table behind her.

Amylie shook her head with a smile. “Not at all. I didn’t even realize how much time flew by between now and the last we saw each other today.”

He started pouring their cups, holding the ladle with an oven rag so he wouldn’t burn himself.

“I meant to stop by earlier, but I didn’t have the heart to pull you from your work just yet.” 

Amylie observed him pour. He filled the cups perfectly without spilling even a drop, even using a very fancy looking strainer to catch the bits of herbs and spices.

She tilted her head then, curious. “We’re having tea tonight?”

“I thought it was only fair,” he replied, handing Amy her cup, “considering you were polite enough to drink my bitter liquor while you could.”

She took it with a kind thanks, blowing on it for a moment before taking a sip. It was sweet, soothing on the tongue. There was an herbal taste that gently lingered on her taste buds.

“How is it?” he inquired, taking a seat in a nearby chair that floated under him all by itself. 

“It’s delicious,” she smiled, setting the cup and its dish on her lap. Then Amy tilted her head again. “I...presume we’re asking each other more questions tonight, correct?”

“You presume correctly, my dear!” Alastor smiled, going in for a sip of tea. 

Unlike hers, his was course to the tongue. Just the way he liked all his drinks. Potent with more than enough roughness to kick you awake. 

“As is part of our agreement from last night.” He reminded her, setting his cup now and patiently waiting for her first question with a courteous smile.

Amy, thankfully, knew what question to start with this time.

“If I may ask,” she started, “when should we tell the others about our... _arrangement_ together?”

She didn’t want to blatantly say the word ‘marriage’ aloud so thoughtlessly. Not after she’d overheard a tipsy Angel complaining how he hated that the walls between all the rooms were so thin that you could hear your neighbor drop a pin.

Alastor hummed for a moment in thought. “That is a good question…”

He tapped a claw to his chin, contemplating. 

“...Let’s give it a few months. Until you’ve fully established yourself as a member of the hotel. After that, we can announce our arrangement.” He chuckled then. “We can even make up a little story about how we had ourselves a discreet but still _very professional_ manager-coworker romance prior to our announcement!”

But Amy blinked at that. “Why make up a story? Shouldn’t we be honest with Charlie and the others? They are our staff members, afterall.”

Alastor, with a sly look, pointed a digit at her as he held his cup for another sip. “Hold your horses, darling. It’s my turn.”

Amy quietly huffed as he took his drink. Well, that was certainly one way to avoid the question…

He crossed his legs then, leaning in a little as he set his cup aside once more and asked:

“Forgive the rather bold question, my darling, but I’ve been dying to know...just _what_ did a little creature like yourself do to end up on bad terms with the divine and in the employment of such a proud conman?”

Amylie was unprepared for his question. She felt her stomach tense and her back straighten. Her lips became dry and she washed down the thick lump with a gulp of tea. 

“I…It’s...not that exciting...” her gaze drifted, unknown to her until she shifted them back and found Alastor’s patient yet curious stare hadn’t budged an inch.

“I’ll be the judge of that, darling.” 

She swallowed again, until she finally let out a long sigh. She almost felt foolish for being so surprised by his curiosity. The question was bound to come up sooner or later. 

Amylie felt the best way was to treat it like ripping off a bandaid. The sooner she explained, the better. 

No mincing details. 

“Well,” she began, “before I fell and worked for Amon, I - like a lot of none-natural born angels - was a guardian angel. I was to devote the rest of my afterlife helping people back on earth through their troubles and set them on the right path. I trained under a veteran guardian angel for a while, and then became a full time guardian. It was treated as a sort of...day job, let’s say.”

Alastor nodded, attentively listening to her story. 

“Every day was the same. I was assigned a person to either guide or perform a miracle for, I would return to heaven and go over my day with the cherubs, and then go home. I did this for many, many, many, _many_ years-” good Lord above, how she’d forgotten how much she _hated_ those days, “- until it all started becoming...I can’t even think of the right word….”

“Menatinous?” Alastor curiously suggested. “Repeating? Dull? _Boring?_ ”

“All of the above.” She groaned. “I started feeling like I was caught in this loop. Day after day it was the same thing. All the interesting jobs were given to the natural-born angels while ones like me were stuck with dealing with mortals on earth. The cherubs had more leniency than we did. And when I asked some of my higher ups if I could possibly change my occupation, they practically laughed in my face.”

Alastor’s eyes widened at that. “No!” he gasped, hinging on every word of her story like an excited child.

He even had the same level of excitement in his eyes like one. 

“They did!” she said, in almost a gasp as well. 

They both pulled their chairs in closer to each other.

“ _‘What more can a guardian angel do?’_ they said. _‘You’re not mortal anymore. You should have abandoned those feelings long ago!’_ So then, after they laughed me out of their room, I vowed to never bring it up again. I told myself to just forget about what I wanted and focus on the things they wanted me to, like the way a guardian angel was supposed to.”

Amylie paused then, her gaze drifting off Alastor.

“...That was when I met Amon.” She continued, looking as if all the charisma she’d been glowing with a moment ago was suddenly sucked right out of her. “He found me all alone on the streets of heaven. It was the first time I had ever met a fallen, especially one so infamous as him. Everyone had heard of the angel who was so obsessed with humanly customs that he fell from grace to build a casino up from the ground with his own two hands.”

She sighed lightly, taking a moment to drink her lukewarm tea before continuing. She still didn’t meet Alastor’s gaze. 

“But Sinner’s Eden was far from being finished at that time. He was still in the process of getting heaven’s permission to allow other angels visit, specifically the ones like me who couldn’t entirely part from their ‘mortal desires’, as they had put it.”

Amy sighed again, but this time it was a much heavier one. She even shook her head a little.

“Amon made the whole idea sound like a dream come true. I could be the one thing I always wanted to be and heaven would have no say in it otherwise.”

“But you had to fall in order for such a thing to be set in stone.” Alastor put together, which earned a slow, heavy nod from Amylie.

“I was so stupid. After he told me everything he had planned for the casino, I signed that stupid contract without a second thought. And Amon, that…” she bit her lip; it was unladylike to swear, “he made sure I signed the contract first, before ever renouncing my duties and falling.”

Amy slowly returned her gaze back to Alastor. “I was condemned with the sin of vanity and was exiled. The rest after that is history.”

A silence hung over the two after her story. Alastor wasn’t quite certain what he was feeling, but he made note of just how drastically Amylie’s demeanor changed the moment Amon’s name was brought up. 

He could only imagine how treacherous their tale together was inside the walls of Sinner’s Eden.

After all that, it was finally Amylie’s turn. 

“You know...I used to hear rumors whispered about you from a lot of our demon guests. They never said your name, just that a sinner in red seemingly appeared out of nowhere and earned his spot as an Overlord overnight. Is all that true?”

Alastor, resuming his previous demeanor from before, felt his smile curl in satisfaction. He crossed his legs comfortably.

“Why, yes.” He answered, rather smugly. “Indeed they are. The ones that are true, anyway.”

Amylie raised a curious brow at him.

“Rumors spread like wildfire in hell.” Alastor said, fiddling with his claws as he spoke. “Little details tend to be exaggerated ten fold, and others are just forgotten or ignored. However, they do wonders for someone with a reputation such as mine, as I’m sure you noticed. I’ve learned to take what I can with each new one that I happen to overhear.”

She blinked. “But…”

“Oh, but if you’re curious if I really did broadcast my violent acts live to an unsuspecting audience…” his smile lifted a touch higher along his left cheek. “Yes. That I will confirm did most certainly happen.”

Another pause; save for an audible gulp Amylie made. 

“My turn!” he beamed then, unintentionally making the fallen angel jump in her seat with his sudden giddiness. “I take it you were a singer in your previous life?”

“Not exactly.” She replied, finding an easier time answering this question. “I... _was_ going to be, but I suppose it just wasn’t meant to be. At least not in that lifetime.”

Alastor absorbed that answer, making note of her demeanor like he did before. He could tell there was more to the story that she was letting on. She wasn’t letting on very much, but she seemed oddly reserved with her answer; as if she had been prepared for him to ask her this question. 

But he let it be.

Alastor was many things, but he wasn’t a pushy brute...most of the time. 

He took a sip of his tea, closing his eyes in relaxation. “Your turn, dear. Last one for the night, better make it count.” 

Once again, Amylie seemed prepared for this one.

“Why do you want to marry me?”

“...” the tea cup stiffened over his lips, lingering there. Alastor slowly opened his left eye, staring right at Amylie again. 

And she looked back at him.

There was a soft boldness behind her curious gaze; he could practically taste it in those pale blue orbs of hers.

“...Because I wish to,” he answered, removing the cup so he could openly smile at her. “Simple as that.”

She raised a brow again. “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“That’s my answer, dear. I’m afraid there’s nothing else more to say...little bird.”

The air grew heavy, and Amy once again found herself swallowing a lump in her throat. How strange, she noticed, how he would speak like he was an open book one moment, and then act aloof and mysterious the next.

At least he didn’t brush off the question. Yet still...there was still so much she wanted to know.

Before Amy could drag this on, Alastor leaned forward with his chin rested on his palm, his eyes once again catching her in their hold.

“And now for my final question…”

Amy waited. 

Alastor had leaned in close enough that she caught a glimpse of her reflection briefly in his monocle. 

Apprehension.

“Are you afraid of me?”

His direct question surprised her a little. But she supposed it was only fair; after all, she had asked him a direct one as well.

...Yet there was a look in his eye. A look that she could just barely make out.

One of intrigue and curiosity all wrapped into one. 

“I am...unsure.” Amylie answered, not breaking their gaze for even a moment.

It was no doubt an unsatisfying answer, but it was of utmost honesty. She made no indication of doubt.

Alastor had been hospitiple, a helping hand, courteous, and even a downright pleasantry at times...yet she would not forget that she was in the presence of a sinner.

A man who had committed horrible acts amongst his fellow men.

Even if there was a chance he was here in the hotel to better himself, she wasn’t going to turn a blind eye and ignore an obvious fact just because he was lending her aid. 

Alastor, to her surprise, didn’t reply.

He continued to maintain their stare together, until he finally broke it by glancing at her clock on her nightstand.

“My, it’s that late already.” 

Amy looked over as well. He wasn’t lying; a full hour and a half had passed around them.

He stood, straightening his coat sleeves and collar in the process. 

“I’ll leave you to your work now, darling. Although I recommend you get plenty of sleep. Remember, Charlotte wants to head into town first thing in the morning to spread word of the hotel in person.”

“Yes, I remember.” 

She watched as he gathered up their tea cups on the trey, along with the pot. Once he was all finished, he went to the door.

“Until tomorrow night, darling.” He said, turning to her with that smile once again.

She nodded back at him politely. “Goodnight, Alastor.”

He left, closing the door behind him.

Amylie felt her shoulders loosen, her gaze dropping to her lap. There, her eyes drifted over her engagement ring.

...She covered it with her other hand, wanting to hide herself from that blood-red ruby that reminded her so much of her very peculiar fiancé.

* * *

Alastor strolled through the hall from her room, holding one trey balanced on one hand as his other arm was folded behind his back.

He was staring forward, but he was adrift inside his own thoughts. 

You’re more clever than I presumed, little bird. 

He was feeling a strange concoction of emotions; which he knew he needed to get used to if he was determined to see through with his peculiar relationship he had with the fallen angel to the end.

This was the second time now that she had rendered him speechless.

Granted, he wasn’t entirely sure what he could have anticipated as her answer to his final question. But he would have preferred anything other than _“I’m unsure”._

It made him want to turn back around, go back in there and try and demand just what in the seven hells that even meant!

Alastor felt his smile tense the more he lingered on it.

No, he needed to give this more time. Needed to take a step back and rethink his approach. She was confounding him too much; and this was only her first day!

He had her here now. She was still in debt to him. No one would be bold enough to try and swindle her from him when he still wanted her around. Alastor just needed to let this sense of confusion and dissatisfaction pass...for now. 

At least they were both in agreement about keeping their arrangement together secret from the others. 

He wasn’t sure what he would ever do if Charlie, Husk, Vagatha - and Lucifer forbid Angel - found out about their engagement.

* * *

Alastor was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t take any notice of the spider hiding behind the corner of the hall far behind Alastor now.

A spider that was dying to be the fly on the wall of the fallen angel’s room...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really wanted to take my time with this one ^^ I'm glad with how it turned out lol
> 
> Also for those curious, Amylie is singing a verse from the song 'The Bell Song', which is in an opera called: "Lakme"
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hope you liked the first chapter! Depending on how much traction I get, I might just post more of it, but either way, hopefully you liked it nevertheless!


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